GIFT  OF 
Mrs.   John  3.   Casserly 


ORATORY 

SACRED  AND  SECULAR 


OR,   THE 


SKETCHES  OF  THE  MOST  EMINENT  SPEAKERS  OF  ALL  AGES. 


BY   WILLIAM    PITTED  GEE, 

Author  of  "Daring  and  Suffering." 


INTRODUCTION  BY  HON.  JOHN  A.   BINQHAM, 


APPENDIX 

CONTAINING  A   "  CHAIKMAN'8  GUIDE"   FOR  CONDUCTING  PUBLIC  MEETINGS  ACCORDING 
TO  THE   BEST  PARLIAMENT  ART  MODELS. 


l*fo  gorfe: 

SAMUEL  R.  WELLS,  PUBLISHER,  389  BROADWAY. 

1808. 


•I 

-B.  c*««««v 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  In  the  year  1888, 

By  SAMUEL  R.  WELLS. 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States,  for  the  youtbern 
District  of  New  York. 


EDWABD    O.    JENKIN8, 
PKINTER    AND    STEREOTYPER, 

20  North  William  Street. 


PEEFACE. 

WHEN  we  first  began  to  speak  in  public,  we  felt  the  need 
of  a  manual  that  would  point  out  the  hindrances  likely  to 
be  met  with,  and  serve  as  a  guide  to  self-improvement. 
Such  help  would  have  prevented  many  difficult  and  painful 
experiences,  and  have  rendered  our  progress  in  the  de- 
lightful art  of  coining  thought  into  words  more  easy  and 
rapid.  In  the  following  pages  we  give  the  result  of 
thought  and  observations  in  this  field,  and  trust  it  will 
benefit  those  who  are  now  in  the  position  we  were  then. 

We  have  freely  availed  ourself  of  the  labor  of  others, 
and  would  especially  acknowledge  the  valuable  assistance 
derived  from  the  writings  of  Bautain,  Stephens  and  Holy- 
oake.  Yet  the  following  work,  with  whatever  merit  or 
demerit  it  may  possess,  is  original  in  both  thought  and 
arrangement. 

We  have  treated  general  preparation  with  more  than 
ordinary  fullness,  for  although  often  neglected,  it  is  the 
necessary  basis  upon  which  all  special  preparation  rests. 

As  the  numerous  varieties  of  speech  differ  in  compara- 
tively few  particulars,  we  have  treated  one  of  the  most 

756957 


IV  PREFACE. 

common — that  of  preaching — in  detail,  with  only  such 
brief  notices  of  other  forms  as  will  direct  the  student  in 
applying  general  principles  to  the  branch  of  oratory  that 
engages  his  attention. 

We  are  not  vain  enough  to  believe  that  the  modes  of 
culture  and  preparation  pointed  out  in  the  following  pages 
are  invariably  the  best,  but  they  are  such  as  we  have  found 
useful,  and  to  the  thoughtful  mind  may  suggest  others  still 
more  valuable. 


CONTENTS. 


PREFACE.  —  Objects  of  the  Work  stated 3 

INTRODUCTION  —  By  Hon.  JOHN   A.    BINGHAM,    Member    of 

Congress 5 

PART  I .  —  GENERAL  PREPARA TION8. 

CHAPTER  I. 

THE  WRITTEN  AND  EXTEMPORE  DISCOURSE  COMPARED  —  Illus- 
trative Examples 13 

CHAPTER  II. 

PREREQUISITES  —  Intellectual  Competency  ;    Strength  of  Body  ; 

Command  of  Language  ;  Courage;  Firmness;  Self-reliance....     18 

CHAPTER  III. 

BASIS  OF  SPEECH  —  Thought  and  Emotion ;   Heart  Cultivation  ; 

Earnestness 27 

CHAPTER  IV. 

ACQUIREMENTS  —  General  Knowledge  ;  of  Bible  ;  of  Theology ;  of 

Men  ;  Method  by  which  such  Knowledge  may  be  obtained.. .     34 

CHAPTER  V. 

CULTIVATION  —  Imagination ;  Language  ;  Voice  ;  Gesture ;  Confi- 
dence ;  References  to  Distinguished  Orators  and  Writers 42 

PART  \\.-A  SERMON. 

CHAPTER  I. 

THE  FOUNDATION  FOR  A  PREACHER  —  Subject;  Object;  Text; 

Hints  to  Young  Preachers 65 


VI  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  II. 

• 

THE    PLAN  —  Gathering    Thought  ;    Arranging  ;     Committing  ; 

Practical  Suggestions ;  Use  of  Xotes 80 

CHAPTER  III. 

PRELIMINARIES  FOR  PREACHING  —  Fear  ;  Vigor  ;  Opening  Exer- 
cises ;  Requisites  for  a  Successful  Discourse 96 

CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  DIVISIONS  —  Introduction,  Difficulties  in  Opening;  Discus- 
sion, Simplicity  and  Directness  ;  Conclusion 104 

CHAPTER  V. 

AFTER  CONSIDERATIONS  —  Success;  Rest;  Improvement;  Practi- 
cal Suggestions 115 

PART  III.  —  SECULAR  ORATORY. 
CHAPTER  I. 

INSTRUCTIVE  ADDRESS  —  Fields  of  Oratory ;  Oral  Teaching ;  Lec- 
turing    123 

CHAPTER  II. 

MISCELLANEOUS  ADDRESS  —  Deliberative ;  Legal ;  Popular  ;  Con- 
troversial ;  the  Statesman  ;  the  Lawyer ;  the  Lecturer ;  the 
Orator 127 

PART  IV. 

EMINENT  SPEAKERS  DESCRIBED  —  St.  Augustine ;  Luther  ;  Lord 
Chatham  ;  William  Pitt ;  Edmund  Burke  ;  Mirabeau  ;  Patrick 
Henry  ;  George  Whitefield  ;  John  Wesley  ;  Sidney  Smith  ;  F. 
W.  Robertson  ;  Henry  Clay  ;  Henry  B.  Bascom  ;  John  Sum- 
merfield  ;  C.  H.  Spurgeon  ;  Henry  Ward  Beecher ;  Anna  E. 
Dickinson  ;  John  A.  Bingham  ;  William  E.  Gladstone  ;  Mat- 
thew Simpson ;  Wendell  Phillips ;  John  P.  Durbin  ;  New- 
man Hall,  and  others 133 

APPENDIX. 

THE  CHAIRMAN'S  GUIDE  —  How  to  Organise  and  Conduct   Pub- 
lic Meetings  and  Debating-  Clubs  in  Parliamentary  style 199 


INTRODUCTORY  LETTER. 

REV.  WM.  PITTKNGER  :  CADIZ,  0.,  19th  Nov.,  1S57. 

DEAR  SIR,— I  thank  you  for  calling  my  attention  to  your  forth- 
coming work  on  Extemporaneous  Speaking.  Unwritten  speech  is, 
in  my  judgment,  the  more  efficient  method  of  public  speaking,  be- 
cause it  is  the  natural  method.  The  written  essay,  says  an  eminent 
critic  of  antiquity,  "  is  not  a  speech,  unless  you  choose  to  call  epis- 
tles speeches."  A  cultivated  man,  fully  possessed  of  all  the  facts 
which  relate  to  the  subject  of  which  he  would  speak,  who  cannot 
clearly  express  himself  without  first  memorising  word  for  word  his 
written  preparation,  can  scarcely  be  called  a  public  speaker,  whatever 
may  be  his  capacity  as  a  writer  or  reader.  The  speaker  who  clothes 
his  thoughts  at  the  moment  of  utterance,  and  in  the  presence  of  his 
hearers,  will  illustrate  by  his  speech  the  admirable  saying  of  Seneca : 
'  Fit  words  better  than  fine  ones." 

It  is  not  my  purpose  to  enter  upon  any  inquiry  touching  the  gifts, 
culture  and  practice  necessary  to  make  a  powerful  and  successful 
speaker.  It  is  conceded  that  in  the  art  of  public  speaking,  as  in  all 
other  arts,  there  is  no  excellence  without  great  labor.  Neither  is  it 
the  intent  of  the  writer  to  suggest  the  possibility  of  speaking  effi- 
ciently without  the  careful  culture  of  voice  and  manner,  of  intellect 
and  heart,  an  exact  knowledge  of  the  subject,  and  a  careful  arrange- 
ment, with  or  without  writing,  of  all  the  facts  and  statements  in- 
volved in  the  discussion.  Lord  Brougham  has  said  that  a  speech 
written  before  delivery  is  regarded  as  something  almost  ridiculous ; 
may  we  not  add,  that  a  speech  made  without  previous  reflection  or  an 
accurate  knowledge  of  the  subject,  would  be  regarded  as  a  mere  tink- 
ling cymbal.  I  intend  no  depreciation  of  the  elaborate  written 
essay  read  for  the  instruction  or  amusement  of  an  assembly ;  but 
claim  that  the  essay,  read,  or  recited  from  memory,  is  not  speech, 
nor  can  it  supply  the  place  of  natural  effective  speech.  The  essay 
delivered  is  but  the  echo  of  the  dead  past,  the  speech  is  the 
utterance  of  the  living  present.  The  delivery  of  the  essay  is  the 
formal  act  of  memory,  the  delivery  of  the  unwritten  speech  the 
living  act  of  intellect  and  heart.  The  difference  between  the  two  is 
known  and  felt  of  all  men.  To  all  this  it  may  be  answered  that  the 
ancient  speakers,  whose  fame  still  survives,  carefully  elaborated 
their  speeches  before  delivery.  The  fact  is  admitted  with  the  fur- 


8  INTRODUCTION. 

tlier  statement,  that  many  of  the  speeches  of  the  ancient  orators 
never  were  delivered  at  all.  Five  of  the  seven  orations  of  Cicero 
against  Verres  were  never  spoken,  neither  was  the  second  Philippic 
against  Mark  Antony,  nor  the  reported  defence  of  Milo.  We  admit 
that  the  ancient  speakers  wrote  much  and  practised  much,  and  we 
would  commend  their  example,  in  all,  save  a  formal  recital  of  written 
preparations.  There  is  nothing  in  all  that  has  come  to  us  concern- 
ing ancient  oratory,  which  by  any  means  proves  that  to  be  effective 
in  speech,  what  is  to  be  said  should  be  first  written  and  memorised ; 
there  is  much  that  shows,  that  to  enable  one  to  express  his  own 
thoughts  clearly  and  forcibly,  reflection,  culture  and  practice  are 
essential. 

Lord  Brougham,  remarking  on  the  habit  of  writing  speeches, 
says :  "  That  a  speech  written  before  delivery  is  something  anoma- 
lous, and  a  speech  intended  to  have  been  spoken  is  a  kind  of  by- 
word for  something  laugh  able  in  itself,  as  describing  an  incongruous 
existence."  This  distinguished  man,  in  his  careful  consideration  of 
this  subject,  says :  ''  We  can  hardly  assign  any  limits  to  the  effects 
of  great  practise  in  giving  a  power  of  extempore  composition,"  and 
notices  that  it  is  recorded  of  Demosthenes,  that  when,  upon  some 
rare  occasions,  he  trusted  to  the  feeling  of  the  hour,  and  spoke  off- 
handr  "  his  eloquence  was  more  spirited  and  bold,  and  he  seemed 
sometimes  to  speak  from  a  supernatural  impulse."  If  this  be  true 
of  the  great  Athenian  \vho  notoriously  would  not,  if  he  could  avoid 
it,  trust  to  the  inspiration  of  the  moment,  and  who  for  want  of  a 
prepared  speech,  we  are  told  by  ^Eschines,  failed  before  Philip, — 
might  it  not  be  inferred  that  one  practised  in  speaking,  would  utter 
his  thoughts  with  more  spirit  and  power  when  not  restrained  by  a 
written  preparation  and  fettered  by  its  formal  recital  { 

Did  not  Fox  often,  in  the  Parliament,  achieve  the  highest  results 
of  speech  without  previous  written  preparation;  and  is  it  not  a 
fact  never  to  be  questioned,  that  the  wonderful  speech  of  Webster, 
in  reply  to  Hayne,  was  unwritten  ? 

In  his  admirable  lecture  on  Eloquence,  Mr.  Emerson  says  :  "  Elo- 
quence that  so  astonishes,  is  only  the  exaggeration  of  a  talent  that  is 
universal.  All  men  are  competitors  in  this  art.  *  *  A  man  of 
this  talent  finds  himself  cold  in  private  company,  and  proves  him- 
self a  heavy  companion;  but  give  him  a  commanding  occasion,  and 
the  inspiration  of  a  great  multitude,  and  he  surprises  us  by  new  and 
unlooked  for  powers."  *  * 

Indeed,  there  is  in  this  lecture  of  Mr.  Emerson,  in  few  words, 


INTRODUCTION.  9 

much  to  sustain  your  theory.  He  says,  "  the  word  eloquence  strictly 
means  out-speaking  ;  the  main  power,  sentiment — the  essential  fact 
is  heat,  the  heat  which  comes  of  sincerity.  Speak  what  you  know 
and  believe,  and  are  personally  answerable  for.  This  goes  by  weight 
and  measure,  like  everything  else  in  the  universe.  A  man  to  be  elo- 
quent must  have  faith  in  his  subject,  and  must  have  accurate  know- 
ledge of  that  subject.  *  *  The  author  of  power — he  is  the 
great  man  who  always  makes  a  divine  impression,  a  sentiment  more 
powerful  in  the  heart  than  love  of  country,  and  gives  perceptions 
and  feelings  far  beyond  the  limits  of  thought.  Eloquence  is  the 
power  to  translate  a  truth  into  a  language  perfectly  intelligible  to 
the  person  to  whom  you  speak.  Such  a  practical  conversion  of 
truth,  written  in  God's  language,  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  wea- 
pons forged  in  the  shop  of  the  Divine  Artificer.  God  and  Nature  are 
altogether  sincere,  and  art  should  be  as  sincere."  How  can  sincerity 
be  fully  attained  in  the  great  art  of  public  speech,  if  every  word  to  be 
uttered  must  be  previously  written  down  in  the  closet,  and  memo- 
rized and  recited  ?  Was  not  Lord  Brougham  right  in  saying  a  speech 
written  before  delivery  is  inconsistent  with  the  inspiration  of  the 
moment,  and  the  feelings  under  which  the  orator  is  always  supposed 
to  speak  ?  What  feelings  ?  The  felt-conviction  of  the  truth  of  what 
he  has  to  say.  What  inspiration  ?  The  inspiration  which,  at  the  mo- 
ment, clothes  and  expresses  the  honest  thought  in  appropriate 
words. 

Surely  the  living  voice,  rightly  cultivated,  and  rightly  employed, 
is  a  power  in  the  world,  and  to  condemn  you  for  calling  attention  to 
what  you  believe  to  be  the  most  efficient  method  of  human  speech, 
would  be  one  of  those  decisions  of  ignorant  arrogance  which  it 
costs  no  labor  and  needs  no  intellect  to  pronounce. 

Is  not  the  man  who  well  and  truthfully  speaks  his  own  thoughts, 
as  Shakspeare  and  Bacon  wrote,  in  some  sense  their  peer  ?  Is  not 
the  mere  reciter  of  their  words,  but  their  shadow  ? 

It  is  said  of  Plato,  that  he  poured  forth  the  flood  of  his  eloquence 
as  by  inspiration,  and  that,  had  the  Father  of  the  gods  spoken  in 
Greek,  he  would  have  used  none  other  language  than  Plato's ;  and 
yet  this  master  of  language  takes  pains,  in  reporting  the  apology  of 
Socrates  on  trial  for  his  life,  to  represent  him  as  saying  that  it  would 
not  become  him  to  speak  "  studied  terms  and  expressions,  but  only 
the  truth  expressed  in  the  plainest  language."  I  quote  the  words  of 
Socrates  as  given  by  Plato  : 

"Among   the   false   statements  which  my  accusers  made,  there 


10  INTRODUCTION. 

was  one  at  which  I  especially  marveled,  namely  when  they  warned 
you  to  take  care  not  to  be  led  astray  by  me,  inasmuch  as  I  was 
a  powerful  speaker.  It  did  appear  to  me  supremely  audacious  in 
them  to  make  such  an  assertion,  which  must  immediately  after- 
wards be  disproved  by  the  fact ;  for  you  will  see  that  I  have  no 
skill  in  speaking,  unless  they  call  a  man  a  powerful  speaker  be- 
cause he  says  what  is  true.  If  they  mean  this,  I  certainly  must 
allow  that  I  am  a  speaker  of  a  very  different  kind  from  them ;  for 
they,  as  I  have  said,  have  not  spoken  a  word  of  truth ;  from  me  you 
shall  hear  the  whole  truth  ;  and  that  not  clothed  in  ornate  sentences 
with  studied  terms  and  expressions ;  you  will  have  from  me  plain 
facts  expressed  in  the  plainest  language.  Indeed,  Athenians,  it 
would  ill  become  me  at  my  age  to  come  before  you  with  a  studied 
discourse  like  a  boy.  And  there  is  one  thing,  O  Athenians,  which  I 
must  beg  and  entreat  of  you  :  if  I  use,  in  my  defense,  the  same  terms 
which  I  have  been  accustomed  to  use  in  the  market-place  and  in  the 
shops  where  most  of  you  have  heard  me  talking,  do  not  wonder  at 
that,  nor  take  offence.  For  this  is  the  fact,  I  now  enter  a  court  of 
justice  for  the  first  time,  though  I  am  more  than  seventy  years  old ; 
I  am,  therefore,  altogether  strange  to  the  kind  of  language  used  here ; 
and  therefore  excuse  me,  as  if  I  really  were  a  stranger,  if  I  speak  to 
you  in  that  tone  and  in  that  manner  in  which  I  have  been  brought 
up.  I  ask  you  a  thing  which  is,  I  think,  reasonable,  that  you  take 
no  account  of  the  manner  of  my  address  to  you — it  might  be  better,  it 
might  be  worse,  perhaps — but  to  consider  this,  to  attend  to  this, 
whether  I  say  what  is  right  or  not,  for  that  is  the  virtue  of  the 
judge,  as  to  speak  truly  is  the  virtue  of  the  advocate." 

No  matter  if  the  speech  be  not  clothed  in  ornate  sentences  with 
studied  terms,  it  is  the  virtue  of  the  judge  to  consider  whether  the 
speech  is  right,  as  to  speak  truly  is  the  virtue  of  the  advocate. 

It  is  only,  it  seems  to  me,  when  men  speak  wisely,  truly  and  natu- 
rally, that  the  full  significance  of  Quintillian's  words  can  be  rea- 
lized :  u  May  I  perish,  if  the  all-powerful  Creator  of  nature  and  the 
Architect  of  this  world  has  impressed  man  with  any  character  which 
so  eminently  distinguishes  him  as  the  faculty  of  speech."  Let  him 
who  would  use  this  faculty  effectively,  and  attain  to  that  great  power 
which  rules  the  minds  of  men,  and  moves  the  passions  and  affec- 
tions of  the  soul,  see  to  it,  that  he  speaks  what  he  knows  and 
believes,  plainly  and  directly  from  the  heart  to  the  heart. 

Very  truly  your  friend, 

JOHN  A.  BINGHAM. 


PART   I. 


GENERAL    PREPARATION. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE    WRITTEN    AND    EXTEMPORE    DISCOURSE    COMPARED. 

THE  special  object  of  the  following  pages  is  to  show  the 
manner  and  requirements  of  extempore  preaching.  But  as 
this  differs  from  other  methods  of  speech  in  its  objects  rather 
than  in  its  external  qualities,  many  of  the  thoughts  we  pre- 
sent will  apply  as  well  to  the  bar  and  forum  as  to  the  sacred 
desk. 

There  is  need  that  this  subject  should  be  enforced,  par- 
ticularly on  the  ministry.  A  growing  desire  is  manifested 
to  give  up  plain,  direct  speech,  and  indulge  in  the  ease  and 
certainty  of  written  sermons.  Young  me'n  find  themselves 
in  places  where  it  requires  unwearied  exertion  to  sustain  their 
reputation,  and  satisfy  the  demands  of  a  cultivated  audience. 
They  begin  to  fear  that  their  spoken  sermons  may  be  defici- 
ent in  polish  and  style,  and  at  last  they  write.  The  people 
nearly  always  protest  against  the  innovation,  but  to  no  pur- 
pose, for  having  convinced  himself  that  he  is  right,  the  min- 
ister treats  their  murmurs  as  the  effect  of  vulgar  prejudice, 
and  as  a  frequent  result,  his  usefulness  is  permanently  im- 
paired. 

This  evil  cannot  be  diminished  by  denouncing  those  who 
engage  in  it,  for  the  supposed  necessity  they  labor  under  is 
stronger  than  any  other  consideration.  But  it  may  be  les- 
sened by  showing  that  there  is  a  better  way,  and  making  it 
plain.  Such  will  be  our  endeavor. 

The  two  extremes  of  speech  are,  the  discourse  which  is  writ- 
ten and  read  verbatim,  and  that  in  which  both  words  and 

(18) 


14  PRE  \C.HI\G — WRITTEN    AND    EXTEMPORE. 

thoughts  are  left  to  the  impulse  of  the  moment.  Between 
these  there  are  many  intermediate  grades.  The  latter  may 
be  excluded  from  the  classification  altogether,  for  no  wise  man 
will  adopt  it  except  in  some  unforeseen  emergency.  True  ex- 
temporization relates  to  the  words  alone,  and  leaves  full  room 
for  the  complete  preparation  of  thought.  Between  this  and 
the  manuscript  discourse  there  are  various  compromises 
which  seek  to  combine  the  advantages  of  both.  These,  for 
the  sake  of  convenience,  may  be  called  the  recited,  compo- 
site, premeditated  and  sketched  discourses. 

It  is  useless  to  deny  that  the  method  of  writing  in  full 
and  reading,  possesses  many  and  great  advantages.  It 
secures  time  for  the  consideration  of  every  thought.  If  the 
mind  fags,  the  writer  can  pause  until  it  is  rested  and  begin 
again ;  and  in  this  way  all  the  ideas  and  expressions  that  oc- 
cur for  several  days  can  be  concentrated  into  one  sermon. 
Then  it  can  be  revised,  and  the  language  improved  to  an  in- 
definite extent,  and  the  sermon,  in  its  completeness,  laid  away 
for  future  use. 

But  there  are  great  disadvantages.  Such  a  sermon  may, 
by  solidity  of  thought,  and  brilliancy  of  expression,  command 
approval,  but  it  will  seldom  move  and  sway  the  people.  The 
very  idea  that  all  has  been  written  out,  and  is  merely  read, 
will  tend  powerfully  to  neutralize  its  effects.  We  may  re- 
monstrate against  this  if  we  will,  and  declare  that  our  ser- 
mons should  be  judged  by  their  substance,  but  this  does  not 
abate  the  preference  of  our  auditors.  They  will  retort,  with 
truth,  that  they  can  read  even  better  sermons  at  home,  and 
dwell  on  them  at  their  leisure.  What  they  want  in  preach- 
ing is  the  living  sympathy  and  guidance  of  the  preacher ; 
his  soul  burning  and  glowing,  and  thus  lighting  up  other 
souls ;  his  eye  beaming  on  theirs ;  his  clear,  far-seeing  mind, 
excited  "by  the  magnetism  of  truth,  and  appealing  to  their 
hearts  with  an  earnestness  that  will  take  no  denial.  This  fills 
the  popular  ideal  of  preaching,  and  no  elaboration,  no  word 
music  will  atoue  for  the  want  of  it.  Men  of  great  genius 
may  succeed  otherwise,  but  the  mass  of  speakers  cannot. 


PREACHING — WRITTEN   AND    EXTEMPORE.  15 

The  plan  of  memorizing  and  reciting  sermons  would  seem, 
upon  a  superficial  view,  to  secure  the  advantages  of  reading 
without  its  defects.  But  another  and  formidable  class  of 
disadvantages  come  into  being.  Very  few  men  can  declaim 
well.  For  one  who  can  speak  from  memory  with  ease  and 
naturalness,  twenty  can  pour  forth  their  ideas  in  the  words 
of  the  moment  with  energy  and  effect.  A  few  have  mas- 
tered the  difficult  art,  and  won  enduring  laurels  in  this 
way,  but  their  number  is  too  small  to  encourage  others  to 
imitation. 

This  practice  also  imposes  a  heavy  burden  on 'the  mind. 
To  write  and  commit  two  or  three  sermons  in  a  week,  is  a 
task  that  only  those  who  are  strong  in  mental  and  physical 
health  can  perform  with  impunity,  and  even  then  it  requires 
too  much  time ;  for  no  matter  how  perfect  a  minister's  sermons 
may  be,  unless  he  fulfills  other  duties,  he  cannot  be  wholly 
successful.  Most  preachers  who  memorize,  inevitably  neglect 
pastoral  work  because  they  have  not  time  for  it.  And 
another  effect  follows  that  is,  if  possible,  still  worse.  Instead 
of  growing  daily  in  knowledge  by  diligent  study,  the  mind 
is  kept  on  the  tread-wheel  task  of  writing  and  committing 
sermons,  and  thus  permanently  dwarfed.  A  young  man  may 
take  a  higher  rank  at  first  by  memorizing,  than  otherwise, 
but  he  will  not  retain  it  long,  for  the  knowledge  others  ac- 
cumulate while  he  is  conning  his  discourses,  will  soon  place 
them  above  him. 

The  practice  of  committing  brilliant  passages  to  be  recited 
with  the  eyes  withdrawn  from  the  paper,  or  thrown  into  the 
current  of  unpremeditated  discourse,  we  have  termed  the 
composite  manner.  It  is  open  to  all  the  objections  urged 
against  the  last  method,  and  a  most  formidable  one  in  addi- 
tion— the  difficulty  of  making  these  sudden  flashes  fit  into 
their  proper  places,  and  of  preventing  them  from  destroying 
the  unity  of  the  whole  discourse.  They  differ  so  widely  from 
the  rest  of  the  composition,  that  the  audience  are  apt  to  see 
the  artifice  and  despise  it.  A  skillful  man  may  join  them  pro- 
perly, but  even  then  his  own  attention,  and  that  of  the  au- 


16  PREACHING— WRITTEN    AXD    EXTEMPORE. 

dience  will,  probably,  be  so  closely  fixed  upon  them  that  the 
main  design  of  the  sermon  will  pass  out  of  sight. 

These  three  varieties  are  much  alike,  and  may  be  called 
branches  of  the  word-preparation  method.  In  them,  words 
are  carefully  chosen,  and  form  the  groundwork  of  discourse. 
The  next  three  are  based  on  thought. 

The  premeditated  discourse  comes  nearest  to  the  word 
method.  It  was  the  medium  of  the  wonderful  eloquence  of 
the  late  Bishop  Bascom.  In  it  the  ideas  are  first  arranged, 
and  then  each  thought  pondered  until  it  resolves  itself  into 
words,  which  are  mostly  recalled  in  the  moment  of  speech. 
Men  who  speak  thus  usually  have  great  command  of  lan- 
guage and  much  fixity  of  impression.  Those  who  receive 
ideas  readily,  and  lose  them  again  as  easily,  could  not  adopt 
this  method,  for  words  previously  arranged  could  not  be 
recalled  in  the  same  order,  unless  they  had  been  fixed  by 
the  pen.  There  is  little  objection  to  this  mode  of  prepara- 
tion in  the  case  of  those  who  are  adapted  to  it,  provided 
they  do  not  carry  it  so  far  as  to  feel  burdened  or  confused. 
No  words  should  be  left  in  charge  of  the  memory,  and  no 
conscious  effort  made  to  recall  particular  expressions. 

Stephens,  in  his  admirable  book  called  "  Preaching  Re- 
quired by  the  Times,"  advises  ministers,  when  revolving  and 
arranging  their  ideas,  not  to  let  them  run  into  words.  We  can 
see  no  ill  effect  in  this,  provided  the  result  is  a  natural  one. 
All  the- words  must  be  retained  easily  in  the  memory,  and 
not  sought  for  if  they  do  not  spontaneously  present  them- 
selves in  the  act  of  speech.  President  Lincoln,  who  was  :i 
most  effective  off-hand  speaker,  said,  that  he  owed  his  skill  in 
this  art  to  the  early  practice  of  reducing  every  thought  he 
entertained  to  the  plainest  and  simplest  words.  Then  whe*n 
he  desired  to  enunciate  an  idea  he  had  no  difficulty  in  giving 
it  a  form  that  even  a  child  could  understand. 

The  sketched  discourse  approaches  very  closely  to  the 
purely  extempore  method,  and  only  differs  from  it  in  writing 
the  Avhole  matter  in  full,  with  no  care  for  style,  simply  to 
practice  in  the  art  of  expression,  and  to  test  our  mastery  of 


PREACHING — WRITTEN   AND    EXTEMPORE.  17 

the  plan  arranged.  In  it  there  is  no  intention  of  memorizing, 
or  of  using  the  same  words  again,  except  so  far  as  the  ideas 
in  their  simplest  form  may  suggest  them.  This  is  only  doing 
on  paper  what,  in  the  last  method,  was  done  mentally.  It 
may  be  of  great  advantage  to  those  who  have  had  but  a  lim- 
ited experience,  and  cannot  so  clearly  grasp  their  ideas  in 
the  domain  of  pure  thought  as  to  be  sure  that  they  are 
fully  adapted  to  the  purposes'  of  their  sermons. 

But  at  the  slow  rate  of  writing  in  the  common  hand, 
this  requires  too  much  time.  If  a  person  have  mastered 
Phonography,  or  Tachygraphy,  a  valuable  improvement  of 
the  former,  more  easily  acquired  and  retained  in  practice,  he 
may  write  a  sermon  in  little  more  than  the  time  it  will  take 
to  preach  it,  if  he  only  work  at  full  speed  and  do  not  stay 
for  the  niceties  of  style.  Then  the  defects  in  the  arrangement 
or  material,  that  before  escaped  his  attention,  will  be  brought 
to  light.  We  can  judge  a  sermon  more  impartially  when  it 
is  placed  outside  of  the  mind,  than  if  it  were  only  mentally 
reviewed,  and  we  still  have  time  to  correct  whatever  may  be 
amiss. 

But  the  great  method  of  which  the  two  former  are  mere 
branches,  and  which  in  fact  underlies  every  other,  is  that  of 
pure  extemporization.  In  this  there  is  a  firm,  compact  road 
of  previously  prepared  thought  leading  directly  to  the  object 
aimed  at.  When  thus  speaking,  we  always  feel  on  solid 
ground,  and  each  moment  have  the  proper,  selected  idea,  seek- 
ing expression,  and  clothing  itself  in  the  needed  words. 
All  men  talk  thus,  and  we  cannot  but  regard  it  as  the  highest 
form  of  oratory.  When  we  have  obtained  complete  mastery 
of  expression,  and  the  ability  to  so  arrange  facts  and  ideas, 
that  at  the  fitting  moment  they  will  resolve  themselves  into 
words,  the  high  problem  of  eloquence  is  in  a  great  measure 
solved. 


CHAPTER  H. 

PREREQUISITES — INTELLECTUAL    COMPETENCY — STRENGTH    OF 
BODY COMMAND    OF    LANGUAGE COURAGE — FIRMNESS. 

ALMOST  every  Speaker  has  at  some  time  longed  to  obtain 
the  golden  power  of  eloquence.  It  always  insures  to  its  for- 
tunate possessor  a  strong  influence  in  the  affairs  of  men.  It 
is  needed  in  the  promotion  of  every  reform,  and  is  the  only 
means  by  which  the  minds  of  a  community  can  be  at  once 
moved  in  a  new  direction.  When  employed  in  the  service 
of  error  and  injustice  it  is  like  a  fallen  archangel's  power  for 
evil.  But  its  highest  and  purest  sphere  is  in  the  promul- 
gation of  revealed  truth.  It  there  brings  the  word  of  God 
into  living  contact  with  the  souls  of  men,  and  by  it  molds 
them  into  a  higher  life.  It  is  sublime  to  be  a  co-worker  with 
God,  and  thus  assist  him  in  peopling  heaven. 

Only  the  method  of  eloquence  can  be  taught.  Its  refined 
and  ethereal  substance  lies  beyond  the  reach  of  all  art.  No 
preacher  can  be  truly  eloquent  without  the  baptism  of  the 
Holy  Spirit,  and  even  the  excited  passion  and  burning  enthu- 
siasm which  are  the  human  sources  of  this  quality,  can  be 
acquired  by  no  formularies.  But  they  may  be  developed 
and  properly  directed  where  a  capability  for  them  exists.  In 
this  respect  there  is  the  widest  difference  of  talent.  Some 
men  never  can  attain  the  wondrous  power  of  swaying  their 
fellow-beings.  Others  are  born  orators.  The  latter  class  is 
small,  and  it  is  never  safe  to  conclude  that  we  belong  to  it 
until  the  fact  has  been  incontestibly  proved.  Neither  is  the 
class  of  incapables  very  large.  The  great  mass  of  men  lie 

(18) 


PREREQUISITES.  19 

between  the  extremes.  Their  talents  do  not  make  them 
great  in  spite  of  themselves ;  but  if  they  make  the  proper  ef- 
fort, and  are  favored  by  circumstances,  they  may  become 
effective,  and  even  eloquent  speakers.  To  these  it  is  of  great 
importance  to  have  the  right  road  pointed  out,  along  which 
they  may  travel,  and  by  earnest  toil  gain  the  desired  end. 
There  is  no  "  royal  road"  to  eloquence,  but  here,  as  elsewhere, 
application  and  study  will  produce  their  proper  effects.  Yet 
certain  prerequisites  must  be  received  from  God  himself, 
without  which  all  cultivation  \vill  be  vain  as  the  attempt  to 
fertilize  the  sands  of  the  seashore. 

The  first  quality  to  which  we  will  refer,  is  intellectual 
competency.  By  this,  we  mean  a  strength  of  intellect  that 
can  grasp  an  idea,  and  form  a  complete  image  of  it ;  one 
who  is  not  able  to  think  out  a  subject  in  its  leading  features, 
cannot  speak  on  it,  and  if  the  deficiency  be  general,  he  is  un- 
fitted to  speak  in  public  at  all.  We  would  not  assert  that 
none  but  men  of  commanding  intelligence  can  profitably  ad- 
dress their  fellow-beings.  It  is  not  even  necessary  that  the 
orator  should  be  above  the  average  of  mental  power  pos- 
sessed by  his  audience.  Franklin  was  entranced  by  the 
preaching  of  Whitefield,  though  in  grasp  arid  compass  of  mind 
almost  infinitely  his  superior.  A  man  of  comparative  dull- 
ness may,  by  brooding  over  a  particular  subject,  so  master 
it,  that  the  greatest  intellect  will  listen  to  him  with  reverence 
and  profit.  The  great  German  poet,  Goethe,  said,  that  he 
met  few  men  from  whom  he  did  not  learn  something  valu- 
able. But  no  man  ought  to  address  the  people  unless  he  can 
clearly  comprehend  the  nature  of  his  subject,  mark  out  its 
limitations,  understand  its  relations  to  other  subjects,  and 
so  arrange  and  simplify  it  as  to  convey  these  ideas  to  his 
hearers.  The  Christian  minister  has  to  deal  with  a  great 
variety  of  topics,  and  requires  mind  enough  to  grasp  not 
one  only,  but  many  subjects. 

It  is  hard  to  determine  just  how  much  mental  power  is 
required  to  secure  a  moderate  degree  of  success  as  an  orator. 
No  precise  rules  can  be  given  on  this  point,  and  if  they 


20  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 

could,  egotism  would  prevent  each  from  applying  them  to 
himself  however  correctly  he  might  gauge  his  neighbor. 
The  presumptuous  would  do  well  to  remember  that  oratory 
is  the  highest  of  all  arts,  and  to  measure  themselves  with 
becoming  humility;  perhaps  the  following  questions  may  aid 
in  self-examination.  Can  you  grasp  an  idea  firmly  ?  can  you 
follow  its  ramifications,  perceive  its  shades  of  meaning,  and' 
render  it  familiar  in  all  its  bearings  ?  Can  you  analyze  it 
clearly,  so  that  each  separate  part  will  be  understood  by  it- 
self, and  then  again  link  these  together  and  make  each  serve 
as  a  stepping-stone  to  the  comprehension  of  that  which  fol- 
lows ?  If  you  can  do  this  with  a  single  subject,  you  have 
the  mental  power  to  speak  on  that  subject ;  if  on  all,  or  many 
of  the  subjects  of  the  Christian  religon,  vast  and  varied  as 
they  are,  you  can  preach.  No  deficiency  of  intellectual 
power  or  originality  need  dishearten  you. 

The  fact  of  the  close  and  mutual  influence  of  body  and 
mind  is  beyond  dispute,  although  their  connection  is  a  sub- 
ject of  deep  mystery.  When  we  see  how  much  the  faculties 
of  reason  and  imagination — nay,  even  of  hope,  love,  and  faith 
— are  affected  by  bodily  conditions,  we  can  only  exclaim 
with  the  Psalmist,  "  I  am  fearfully  and  wonderfully  made."' 
Especially  is  this  mutual  dependence  forced  upon  the  attention 
of  the  extempore  speaker.  In  every  effort  he  feels  the  subtle 
effect  of  physical  causes,  and  often  under  the  pressure  of 
disease,  strives  in  vain  to  realize  the  grand  but  intangible 
thoughts  that  float  through  his  brain.  The  body  is  the  in- 
strument of  the  mind  in  its  communication  with  the  outward 
world,  and  even  if  the  most  sublime  and  glorious  conceptions 
existed  within,  they  would  be  powerless  if  the  bodily  organs 
were  unequal  to  the  task  of  expressing  them. 

A  dumb  man  cannot  be  an  orator,  no  matter  how  richly 
endowed ;  and  all  other  bodily  defects  will  be  felt  as  hin- 
drances even  if  they  fall  short  of  the  deprivation  of  an  organ 
of  sense.  The  preacher  needs  to  be  a  completely  developed 
man  physically,  as  well  as  mentally,  though  he  may  succeed 
in  spite  of  many  disadvantages.  Feeble  health  will  always 


PREREQUISITES.  21 

detract  from  his  power.  The  mind  may  for  a  time  rise  su- 
perior to  it,  but  a  crushing  recoil  will  follow.  This  takes 
place  when  the  ill-health  is  not  extreme ;  but  when  it  fetters 
the  ability  of  expression,  and  prevents  the  manifestation  ot 
living  power,  the  barrier  is  absolute.  Many  ministers  utterly 
fail,  because  they  forget  that  eloquence  is  the  offspring  of 
health  ;  others,  perhaps,  still  more  unfortunate  have  battled 
against  disease  and  bodily  infirmity  for  years,  and  yet  have 
been  doomed  to  feel,  amid  their  brightest  aspirations,  that  a 
power  beyond  their  control  was  conquering  them.  It  is  ter- 
rible to  sit  helpless,  and  see  a  cloud  stealing  over  the  bright- 
ness of  genius,  and  shading  the  whole  future  of  life.  Yet 
this  has  been  the  experience  of  thousands.  We  remember 
an  impressive  illustration  of  this  in  the  case  of  one  who  pos- 
sessed the  richest  endowments.  He  was  almost  unequaled 
as  a  pulpit  orator,  yet,  in  the  middle  of  life,  saw  his  powers 
of  usefulness  withdrawn,  and  his  fame  fading — only  because 
his  body  could  not  bear  the  strain  he  unwisely  put  upon  it. 

In  view  of  the  many  facts  of  this  kind,  it  would  be  well 
for  the  man  who  aspires  to  eminence  in  the  fields  of  elo- 
quence, to  examine  himself,  and  see  if  he  have  the  needed 
physical  strength.  With  some  the  incapacity  is  no  doubt 
total.  How  many  ministers  have  had  their  light  turned  into 
darkness  by  a  diseased  throat,  a  cerebral  affection,  or  a  nerv- 
ous disorder?  But  the  majority  of  men  only  need  care  and 
obedience  to  the  laws  of  life  to  bring  their  bodies  up  to  the 
standard  of  efficiency.  In  youth,  at  least,  there  is  nothing 
so  easily  improved  as  health.  By  the  golden  rule  of  temper- 
ance in  all  things — in  voice  and  thought,  as  well  as  food  and 
drink — nearly  all  may  render  the  body  adequate  to  the  mani- 
festation of  mind. 

To  an  orator,  the  power  of  readily  clothing  his  thoughts 
in  words  is  indispensable.  Language  is  the  dress  of  ideas — 
the  means  by  which  they  are  communicated  to  others.  The 
thoughts  that  arise  in  our  minds  resolve  themselves  into 
words  as  naturally  as  the  clouds  do  into  falling  showers. 
We  use  words  to  some  degree  in  our  most  secret  medita- 


22  EXTEMPORE    SPEAKING. 

tions,  and  whenever  the  latter  become  clear  and  well  defined 
they  fall  into  language  without  conscious  effort.  To  cause 
them  to  do  this  with  precision  and  certainty  is  one  of  the 
problems  of  extempore  speech.  The  thought  is  prepared  in 
advance,  but  is  to  be  coined  into  worcls  at  the  moment.  If 
the  faculty  of  language  is  weak  this  cannot  be  done  without 
such  hesitation  and  embarrassment  as  greatly  to  diminish 
the  effect ;  but  if  strong,  a  tide  of  words  will  be  poured 
forth  without  apparent  effort.  Even  in  common  conversa- 
tion, a  wide  difference  in  point  of  fluency  may  be  observed. 
In  fact,  it  was  this  which  gave  Gall  the  first  hint  that  led  to 
the  establishment  of  Phrenology. 

No  doubt  this  faculty  may  be  greatly  cultivated  and  im- 
proved, but  when  its  original  strength  is  very  small,  it  can 
not,  probably,  be  made  available  for  ready  and  powerful 
speech.  There  are  persons  whose  voices  seem  to  have  no 
defect,  who  cannot  learn  to  sing  ;  others,  with  eyes  perfectly 
organized,  are  unable  to  distinguish  between  colors.  The 
power  of  language  may  be  equally  deficient  in  an  otherwise 
well-constituted  mind.  We  once  knew  a  man  who  could 
not  find  the  words  necessary  to  make  the  most  common 
statement  without  long  and  embarrassed  pauses.  He  for- 
got the  names  of  his  nearest  neighbors ;  and,  when  telling 
a  story,  required  perpetual  prompting  wherever  names  oc- 
curred, and  would  often  hesitate  until  some  every-day  term 
was  suggested  to  him.  No  cultivation  would  have  made 
him  a  speaker.  He  had  as  much  education  as  his  neighbors 
around,  and  was  not  remarkably  dull.  He  was  simply  an 
almost  wordless  man.  Many  persons  suffer  in  the  same 
manner,  though  but  few  to  the  same  degree. 

But  the  mere  fact  that  a  man  is  slow  of  speech  is  no  bar 
even  to  the  highest  eminence  as  an  orator.  The  proper  test 
of  the  power  of  this  faculty  is  in  common  conversation. 
There  one  feels  perfectly  at  ease,  and  deals  with  matters  he 
understands.  If  he  have  but  a  moderate  share  of  fluency, 
he  will  have  no  difficulty  in  conveying  his  ideas.  But  if  he 
does  experience  such  difficulty,  it  shows  a  radical  defect 


PREREQUISITES.  23 

which  art  can  never  remove.  But  we  should  not  be  discour- 
aged if  it  is  hard  to  find  appropriate  words  when  speaking 
on  unfamiliar  subjects,  for  we  cannot  have  words  to  express 
ideas  before  possessing  the  ideas  themselves  ! 

Those  who  are  deficient  in  language,  but  have  strong 
powers  of  thought,  are  almost  the  only  persons  who  really 
find  relief  in  writing  and  reading  their  sermons.  If  they 
have  time  to  wait,  the  right  word  may  come  to  them,  or 
they  can  search  through  dictionaries  for  it ;  but  in  the  hurry 
of  speech  there  is  no  such  leisure  for  selection.  They  have 
some  excuse  for  writing,  though  it  will  still  be  questionable 
whether  it  would  not  be  better  for  them  to  dash  ahead  with 
the  loss  of  some  precision,  or  if  this  cannot  be  done,  abandon 
altogether  a  profession  for  which  they  are  so  obviously  un- 
fitted. 

A  man  must  have  a  degree  of  courage  to  place  himself 
within  reach  of  any  danger,  and  remain  there.  If  he  be 
destitute  of  it,  he  will  resign  the  hope  of  victory  rather  than 
encounter  the  perils  by  which  it  may  be  won.  It  is  needed 
in  extempore  speaking  as  well  as  in  any  species  of  physical 
danger,  for  the  perils  to  be  encountered  are  not  less  terrible. 
To  some  sensitive  minds  these  even  amount  to  a  species  of 
martyrdom.  They  go  to  the  desk  trembling  in  every  limb, 
and  would  feel  wonderfully  relieved  if  they  could  exchange 
their  position  for  the  tented  field,  where  the  warfare  would 
be  of  the  body  only,  and  not  of  the  spirit.  Some  of  the 
greatest  orators  have  never  been  able  to  entirely  overcome 
this  feeling,  although  they  may  have  been  free  from  the  fear 
of  failure. 

But  it  is  difficult  to  be  perfectly  assured  even  against  fail- 
ure. "  There  is  nothing  so  fitful  as  eloquence,"  says  the 
Abbe  Bautain,  who  was  well  qualified  to  judge.  The  prac- 
ticed and  prepared  orator  does  not  often  dread  losing  com- 
mand of  words  altogether,  and  being  obliged  to  close  before 
the  proper  time,  but  fears  that  his  rich  and  glowing  concep- 
tions may  fade,  and  his  high  ideal  be  unattained. 

Mere  boldness  does  not  suffice  to  protect  a  speaker  from 


24  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 

these  dangers.  Of  what  avail  is  a  man's  courage  if  his  brain 
be  clouded  and  his  tongue  paralyzed  ?  He  cannot  brave  the 
consequences,  for  the  power  of  ridicule  is  too  keen  for  any 
armor — at  least  when  it  comes  in  such  a  concentrated  vol- 
ume as  falls  on  the  head  of  the  unfortunate  speaker  who  can 
not  finish  what  he  has  begun.  At  such  a  time  the  boaster's 
fate  is  worst  of  all ;  for,  while  others  are  pitied,  he  is  crushed 
beneath  the  scorn  and  triumph  of  his  audience.  There  is  no 
positive  guard,  against  failure.  Public  speaking  is  a  modern 
battle,  in  which  the  most  skillful  warrior  may  be  stricken 
down  by  a  random  bullet — the  bravest  slain  by  a  coward  ! 

What  then  is  the  benefit  of  courage  ?  We  have  placed  it. 
in  the  list  of  essential  qualities,  and  believe  the  orator  can- 
not succeed  without  it.  It  does  not  operate  by  rendering 
failure  impossible,  or  even  materially  reducing  the  risk,  but 
by  enabling  us  to  endure  all  danger  and  press  on.  Bonaparte 
said  that  most  generals  failed  in  one  point — they  delayed  to 
attack  when  it  became  necessary  to  fight  a  great  battle. 
The  issue  was  so  uncertain — so  far  beyond  the  reach  of  human 
wisdom — that  they  hesitated  and  deliberated  until  the  favor- 
able moment  had  passed  forever.  In  war  this  timid  policy 
courts  destruction,  by  permitting  the  adversary  to  choose 
his  own  time  to  strike.  The  same  principle  governs  in  other 
affairs.  The  risk  must  be  taken.  A  man  of  courage  derives 
new  lessons  from  his  failures,  and  makes  them  the  introduc- 
tion to  future  triumphs.  Especially  in  the  field  of  oratory 
is  there  no  possibility  of  success,  if  this  indomitable,  perse- 
vering spirit  be  wanting.  Many  persons  of  excellent  talents 
have  been  condemned  to  perpetual  silence,  because  they 
would  not  endure  the  perils  of  speech.  Men  who  have  instruc- 
ted the  world  by  their  pens,  and  in  the  privacy  of  the  social 
circle  have  charmed  their  friends  by  the  magic  of  their  con- 
versation, have  never  spoken  in  public  because  they  shrunk 
from  the  inevitable  hazard.  There  is  no  difficulty  in  determin- 
ing whether  we  possess  this  quality  or  not.  Let  the  trial  be 
made,  and  if  we  do  not  abandon  our  posts  and  incur  disgrace 
rather  than  speak,  we  have  all  the  boldness  that  is  needed. 


PREREQUISITES.  25 

The  quality  of  firmness  in  oratory  is  sometimes  under- 
valued. While  steady,  persevering  industry,  working  to- 
ward a  definite  end,  is  known  to  be  essential  in  everything 
else,  in  this  field  genius  is  often  supposed  to  be  sufficient. 
There  never  was  a  greater  mistake.  Nature  does  lay  the 
foundation  broad  and  deep  for  some  men,  but  they  must  build 
diligently  upon  it  to  make  their  gifts  availing.  The  way  to 
eminence,  even  for  the  favored  few,  is  long  and  hard,  requir- 
ing deep  thought  and  earnest  striving,  and  without  a  strong 
purpose  fixed  in  the  very  beginning,  and  firmly  adhered  to 
through  years  of  labor,  there  is  slight  chance  of  success. 
A  few  persons  have  risen  to  eminence  without  appearing  to 
pay  the  price  for  it,  but  such  exceptions  are  more  apparent 
than  real.  There  are  times  of  great  excitement,  when  some 
one  before  unknown  is  able  to  speak  so  as  to  fix  the  eyes  of 
the  nation  upon  himself,  but  unless  he  has  been  previously 
prepared,  and  continues  to  put  forth  resolute  effort,  his  suc- 
cess is  but  transitory. 

The  career  of  Patrick  Henry  is  adduced  as  an  instance  of 
success  without  labor.  He  had  little  education  in  the  schools, 
but  learned  much  from  Nature  herself.  His  observation 
was  tireless.  It  is  said,  that  when  he  kept  a  country  store, 
he  would  sit  and  question  his  customers  by  the  hour, 
causing  them  to  display  their  various  dispositions.  He  was 
thus  learning  to  play  upon  the  human  heart,  and  as  this  was 
only  one  manifestation  of  a  ruling  passion,  it  doubtless  took 
a  hundred  other  forms.  When  on  those  long  hunting  ex- 
cursions in  the  beautiful  valley  of  Virginia,  how  many  deep 
and  ineffaceable  impressions  must  have  been  made  on  his 
mind.  He  had  a  peerless  genius,  yet  all  we  can  learn  of  him 
leads  us  to  believe  that  he  cultivated  it  to  the  utmost,  at  least 
as  applied  to  oratory. 

The  familiar  examples  of  Demosthenes  and  Cicero  are  not 
solitary  ones.  All  who  have  acquired  the  power  of  effective 
speech  have  toiled  long  and  patiently.  The  poor,  weak 
waverer  can  never  be  an  orator  in  the  highest  sense  of  the 
term,  however  he  may,  on  special  occasions,  flash  into  mo- 
2 


26  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 

mentary  brilliancy.  And  as  the  minister  of  the  Gospel  must 
cultivate  the  most  difficult  field  of  eloquence,  we  advise  no 
one  to  attempt  preaching  who  is  not  conscious  of  a  strong, 
unchangeable  purpose — a  purpose  that  will  bear  delay,  dis- 
couragement and  weary  waiting. 

Of  course,  the  nature  of  all  the  results  obtained  through 
our  firmness  will  depend  on  the  direction  of  our  efforts.  If 
personal  ambition,  or  pecuniary  profit  be  the  object  toward 
which  we  bend  our  energies,  the  grand  and  holy  character 
of  the  Christian  ministry  will  be  lost  sight  of.  But  let  our 
aim  be  unselfish,  and  our  success  will  be  pure  and  noble. 

To  him  who  has  a  mind  to  conceive,  a  body  with  strength 
to  execute,  language  to  coin  the  mass  of  thoughts  into 
words,  courage  to  bear  the  scrutiny  of  a  thousand  eyes,  and 
firmness  that  will  endure  the  toil  of  preparation — to  him  the 
upward  pathway  is  clear.  He  may  not  win  great  fame,  but 
he  will  be  able  to  present  the  truth  in  its  native  beauty,  and 
make  his  words  fall  with  weight  and  power  on  the  hearts  of 
men. 


CHAPTER    IIL 

BASIS    OP   SPEECH — THOUGHT   AND    EMOTION HEAET   CUL- 
TIVATION. 

THOUGHT  and  emotion  are  two  prime  elements  in  the  mani- 
festations of  mind.  All  the  products  of  mental  action,  unless 
it  be  the  mysterious  power  of  will,  are  divided  between 
them,  and  by  them,  through  various  means  of  expression,  we 
reach  and  influence  the  outward  world. 

Thought  springs  from  the  intellect,  and  acts  upon  the 
facts  received  from  every  source,  retaining,  arranging  and 
modifying  them  at  will.  Feeling  is  the  mind's  response  to 
all  these,  and  comprise?  fear,  love,  hope,  faith,  hatred  and  all 
the  sentiments  and  emotions  that  are  described  under  the 
general  name  of  "  the  heart."  Speech  is  founded  on  these 
two  elements,  which  meet  and  mingle  in  every  human  pro- 
duction, though  seldom  in  the  same  proportion.  The  speaker 
who  has  greatest  mastery  of  one,  is  often  most  deficient  in 
the  other.  But  if  so,  the  whole  range  of  eloquence  is  not 
open  to  him.  He  is  only  a  half-developed  orator,  and  his 
usefulness  will  be  very  much  narrowed. 

A  man  of  deep  thought  but  sluggish  emotion,  may  enchain 
the  attention  of  an  assembly  by  the  novel  and  far-reaching 
views  he  presents  and  the  ability  with  which  he  unfolds 
them,  but  the  whole  discourse  will  be  dull  and  lifeless.  He 
will  find  it  very  difficult  to  move  his  hearers  to  action.  They 
may  assent  to  every  word  he  utters,  and  yet  continue  in  their 
own  course.  Every  minister's  experience  furnishes  proof 
that  it  is  not  enough  to  convince,  or  it  would  be  very  easy 

(27) 


28  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 

to  convert  the  world.  At  times  it  is  right  to  use  the  sword 
of  intellect  alone.  In  controversy,  for  example,  a  solid  basis 
of  reasoning  must  be  laid  before  anything  else  can  be  done. 
But  it  is  not  always  enough.  Men  are  led  as  often  by  their 
sentiments  and  intuitions  as  by  their  judgments,  and  we  are 
allowed  to  use  all  lawful  means  to  win  them.  Even  the 
pure  light  of  truth  is  not  always  to  be  discovered  through 
the  intellect  alone.  A  mere  feeling  of  what  is  right,  or  just, 
or  true,  often  leads,  in  an  instant,  to  a  conviction  that  all 
subsequent  reasoning  can  only  strengthen.  The  ideal  orator, 
therefore,  is  one  who,  even  in  argument,  can  show  the  truth, 
and  then,  by  a  flash  of  heavenly  sympathy,  change  our  cold 
assent  into  fervent  conviction. 

On  the  other  hand,  a  man  of  predominant  feeling  may 
make  us  weep,  but  as  we  see  no  reason  for  it,  we  resist  the 
emotion  to  the  extent  of  our  power.  If  we  yield,  a  reaction 
follows,  and  we  go  away  ashamed  of  what  we  cannot  justify. 
Of  this  class  were  some  of  the  early  Methodist  preachers — 
the  weeping  prophets,  as  they  were  termed.  Their  tears, 
and  the  feeling  with  which  they  spoke,  were  often  irresisti- 
ble, and  by  the  mere  force  of  sympathy,  men  who  had  very 
little  intellectual  power  were  able  to  sway  the  passions  of 
an  audience  at  will.  But  had  it  not  been  for  some  of  their 
brethren,  who  were  men  of  thought  as  well  as  emotion — 
men  who  had  clear  heads  to  organize  and  combine,  as  well 
as  tears  to  shed,  the  effect  of  their  labor  would  have  been 
evanescent  as  the  emotions  they  excited. 

Continuity  is  a  highly  important  quality  of  thought.  All 
men  think ;  they  cannot  help  it,  for  the  mind  is  ever  active. 
But  with  most  these  thoughts  are  but  random  flashes — illu- 
minated pictures — that  arise  for  a  moment,  and  then  vanish 
to  give  place  to  others.  Powerful  thinking  consists  in  hold- 
ing these  scattered  images  together  in  a  chain,  and  making 
them  run  uninterruptedly  from  one  point  to  another.  There 
is  no  man  who  does  not  at  times  catch  glimpses  of  far-reach- 
ing, profound  thoughts ;  but  before  he  can  combine  them 
into  harmony  and  place  them  in  their  proper  relation  to 


BASIS   OF   SPEECH.  29 

other  thoughts,  they  disappear,  and  he  may  search  long 
before  he  will  find  them  again.  All  persons  see  the  beauties 
of  natural  scenery,  but  it  is  only  the  poet  who  can  repro- 
duce the  scattered  elements  and  combine  them  into  a  har- 
monious description.  Only  the  true  thinker  can  gather  the 
fragments  of  thought  that  flash  through  the  mind,  and  give 
them  form  and  consistency.  This  power  is  indispensable  to 
the  speaker.  He  must  give,  not  a  mere  gallery  of  pictures, 
however  beautiful  they  may  be,  but  a  succession  of  thoughts, 
naturally  connected,  by  which  the  mind  advances  step  by 
step  through  the  discourse,  without  jar  or  interruption.  We 
will  endeavor  to  give  some  directions  for  the  acquisition  of 
this  power,  as  far  as  may  be  necessary  in  extempore  speak- 
ing. The  capability  of  thought  must  indeed  be  possessed 
or  all  cultivation  will  be  vain  ;  but  if  the  mind  have  any 
native  vigor,  it  can  learn  to  think  consecutively  and  method- 
ically, even  as  the  unskilled  but  perfectly  organized  hand 
may  be  taught  to  carve  beautiful  and  complicated  forms. 

As  a  general  rule,  men  can  be  more  easily  moved  by 
appeals  made  to  their  feelings  than  to  their  reason,  and  find 
the  most  masterly  dissertation  cold  and  lifeless  unless  re- 
lieved by  some  touches  of  humanity  and  passion.  A  man 
who  does  not  possess  true  feeling  cannot  so  counterfeit  it  as 
as  to  reach  the  hearts  of  others,  but  he  may,  in  a  great 
measure,  transform  his  own  nature  and  acquire  it.  The 
most  essential  qualification  for  a  religious  teacher  is  a  deep 
personal  religious  experience.  One  who  has  never  passed 
through  the  mystic,  mingled  sorrow  and  joy  of  penitence 
and  the  agony  of  remorse — has  never  watched  with  strain- 
ing eyes  for  the  dawning  light  of  salvation,  and  at  last  been 
enabled  to  say,  "  Abba,  Father !"  such  a  one  cannot  preach 
the  gospel  with  power  and  success.  His  speech  may  glitter 
with  all  the  flowers  of  rhetoric  and  the  form  of  words  be 
complete,  but  the  vast  power  of  the  earnest  soul  sympathiz- 
ing with  all  the  lips  utter,  will  be  absent.  Without  genuine 
experience,  our  preaching  will  be  apt  to  fall  into  that  loose 
generalization  which  can  do  no  good.  For  it  is  only  when 


30  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 

we  plant  our  feet  on  living  realities — those  we  have  tested 
and  know  to  be  sure,  and  deal  in  particular,  specified  facts, 
that  we  are  able  to  pierce  through  all  the  folds  of  ignorance 
and  self-love,  and  awaken  an  echo  of  the  conscience  within. 

As  a  mere  form  of  knowledge,  the  experience  of  God's  deal- 
ings with  the  awakened  soul  is  more  valuable  than  any  other 
lore.  But  its  great  advantage  to  the  preacher  is  not  the 
increase  of  knowledge.  It  produces  a  tide  of  emotion  that 
can  never  sleep  until  the  judgment  day.  It  connects  the 
Cross  and  the  divine  Sufferer  with  cords  of  living  sympathy 
that  always  thrill  to  the  very  centre  of  our  being.  Conver- 
sion invariably  deepens  and  intensifies  the  emotions  of  our 
nature ;  and  if  the  speaker  has  passed  through  a  strongly 
marked  change  he  will  have  the  power  of  imparting  his  im- 
pressions to  others,  and  of  giving  to  his  descriptions  the 
inimitable  charm  of  reality.  If  his  religious  experience 
accords  with  the  Bible,  he  can  speak  from  his  own  heart 
with  almost  irresistible  force.  This  was  the  secret  of  the 
power  wielded  by  Luther,  Wesley,  Whitfield  and  others  who 
have  shaken  the  world.  Thus  prepared,  John  Bunyan  wrote 
the  most  wonderful  book  of  any  age — recorded  the  world's 
experience  in  religion,  and  made  the  cold,  dead  realms  of 
allegory  flash  with  life.  He  laid  the  spell  of  his  genius  on 
all  alike,  and  the  child  prattles  of  the  burdened  pilgrim  with 
the  giants  in  his  way,  while  the  old  man  is  cheered  by  the 
light  that  streams  down  from  the  high  hill  on  which  the  city 
is  built.  The  reason  of  his  power  is  simply  that  he  wrote 
his  own  spiritual  experience  in  the  language  of  truth.  I  Jo 
had  stood  at  the  bar  of  Vanity  Fair,  had  fought  with  the 
fiends,  and  groped  his  way  through  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow 
of  Death.  From  the  depths  of  his  own  heart,  torn  by  in- 
ternal conflict,  or  healed  and  made  happy  by  a  heavenly 
anointing,  he  drew  the  images  that  glow  with  ail  the  color 
of  life  in  his  marvelous  book. 

Love  is  the  mightiest  of  all  forces,  and  Jesus  was  revealed 
to  draw  unto  himself  the  love  of  the  universe.  Let  the 
minister  learn  of  him,  arid  he  will  be  able  to  speak  as  he 


BASIS   OF   SPEECH.  31 

never  spoke  before.  He  will  strike  the  key-note  of  that  song 
whose  solemn  music  has  rolled  down  through  the  centuries, 
and  will  wax  louder  and  clearer  until  time  shall  be  no  more. 

The  story  of  the  Cross,  with  all  that  depends  upon  it, 
forms  the  principal  part  of  the  Christian  orator's  theme. 
But  he  has  other  duties.  His  work  is  broad  as  human  life. 
He  stands  by  the  bed  of  sickness ;  he  weeps  with  the  mourn- 
ers when  the  last  flutter  of  life  is  stilled,  and  strives  to  lift 
their  eyes  to  the  victor  over  death  ;  he  warns  the  impenitent 
of  coming  woe.  It  is  his  to  deal  with  the  highest  and 
holiest  emotions  of  the  heart.  And  how  can  he  touch  these 
delicate  chords  gently,  but  firmly — not  shrinking  from  the 
infliction  of  necessary  pain,  yet  never  causing  a  tear  to  flow 
"  in  the  mere  wantonness  of  grief " — unless  he  has  passed 
through  sorrow's  deep  waters  ?  He  must  have  unfeigned 
sympathy  for  all,  and  be  able  to  express  it  plainly  and  ten- 
derly. 

This  power,  both  of  feeling  and  expression,  may  be  greatly 
increased  by  exercise.  If  the  preacher  will  enter  the  abodes 
of  rich  and  poor  alike,  and  take  a  friendly  interest  in  their 
hopes  and  fears,  their  joys  and  sorrows,  he  will  find  his 
heart  drawn  out  toward  them,  and  when  he  addresses  them 
in  public,  it  will  be  with  far  more  intense  anxiety  for  their 
good  than  if  they  were  strangers.  It  will  be  comparatively 
easy  for  him  to  throw  his  heart  into  all  he  says. 

There  are  two  methods  of  cultivating  genuine  emotion 
that  we  would  cordially  recommend  to  all  desirous  of  sway- 
ing the  hearts  of  the  people.  The  first  is  prayer.  We  need 
not  enlarge  on  its  general  benefits,  but  will  notice  its  effect 
on  sacred  oratory.  The  man  who  often  addresses  God  in 
prayer  is  in  the  very  best  school  of  eloquence.  It  brings  us 
close  to  Him,  and  in  the  awful  light  of  His  purity,  we  more 
clearly  see  anything  that  is  bad  in  our  hearts  and  strive  to 
cast  it  out.  As  we  pray  for  others,  and  spread  their  needs 
before  him,  we  cannot  fail  to  be  inspired  with  a  stronger 
desire  for  their  welfare.  Then,  too,  religion  becomes  some- 
thing more  than  a  mere  form  of  words,  and  our  hearts  burn 


32  EXTEMPORE    SPEAKING. 

with  a  stronger  flame.  "We  speak  now  of  prayer  as  it  should 
foe — a  warm,  pure,  fervent  outpouring  of  the  heart  to  God. 
This  is  more  difficult  in  the  public  congregation,  for  then 
many  disturbing  elements  are  brought  to  bear  on  the  person 
praying.  The  listening  people  are  apt  to  be  in  the  preach- 
er's thoughts,  and  prevent  him  from  enjoying  simple  and 
direct  communion  with  heaven.  It  is  the  prayer  "  when 
none  but  God  is  nigh,"  that  will  stir  his  heart  to  its  pro- 
foundest  depths  and  put  his  mind  in  the  right  frame  for 
delivering  his  sermons.  Let  any  one  pray  earnestly  for  help 
from  above  all  the  time  his  sermons  are  in  course  of  prepara- 
tion, and  he  will  be  surprised  to  find  how  much  of  the  cold- 
ness and  deadness  supposed  to  belong  to  this  species  of 
composition  will  be  swept  away,  and  how  beautifully  over 
all  will  be  spread  the  vivid  charm  of  real  experience.  Yet 
we  must  not  restrict  our  prayers  to  this  time,  for  God  may 
not  meet  us  in  loving  friendship  if  we  only  approach  him 
when  we  have  a  favor  to  ask.  To  reap  the  full  benefit  of 
prayer,  it  should  be  a  habit  woven  into  our  life,  and  contin- 
ued on  every  occasion.  This  will  rebuke  sinful  ambition 
and  moderate  that  sensitiveness  which  has  reference  to  the 
opinions  of  our  fellow-beings.  Thus  armed,  the  preacher 
will  come  as  the  messenger  of  God,  rather  than  the  caterer 
to  men's  fancies.  And  from  the  mere  operation  of  natural 
causes,  he  will  speak  with  a  boldness  and  earnestness  that 
will  draw  the  hearts  of  men  as  the  magnet  does  the  steel. 

But  prayer  is  far  more  than  the  means  of  cultivating  emo- 
tion. There  is  a  direct  influence  that  comes  from  God  to 
man.  The  power  of  the  Holy  Spirit  is  no  fable.  A  heav- 
enly anointing  is  sent  down — an  unction  that  gives  sweet- 
ness and  power  even  to  the  most  commonplace  words.  It 
is  not  bestowed  unasked,  for  God  desires  that  we  should  feel 
the  need  of  His  high  gifts  before  they  are  granted.  But 
when  humbly  implored,  there  is  often  breathed  an  influence 
from  above,  mighty  to  sustain  the  faithful  minister  in  his 
task.  What  an  encouraging  but  awful  thought !  God  him- 
self stands  by  us  in  the  time  of  our  weakness  and  gives  us 


BASIS   OF   SPEECH.  33 

His  strength.  If  the  minister  would  always  go  to  the  pulpit 
with  this  assurance,  he  would  not  fear  the  mass  of  upturned 
faces,  but  calmly  view  them  with  a  heart  stayed  on  the  Mas- 
ter whose  work  he  has  to  do. 

The  Spirit's  presence  will  not  in  the  least  absolve  us  from 
the  need  of  complete  preparation.  In  nothing  is  it  more 
true  that  God  helps  those  who  help  themselves.  All  that 
we  contend  for  is  such  an  influence  as  will  cause  the  words 
uttered  to  penetrate  the  souls  of  those  for  whom  they  were 
spoken,  remove  the  fear  of  man  from^the  preacher's  heart, 
and  make  him  bold  in  speaking  the  truth.  It  may  be  that 
clearer  knowledge  will  be  given,  and  the  most  fitting  selec- 
tion of  words  suggested,  but  this  can  only  be  hoped  for  after 
all  preparation  is  made.  God  does  not  duplicate  his  work, 
and  that  which  he  gives  man  faculties  to  discover,  he  will 
not  afterward  bring  to  him  by  an  express  revelation. 

The  second  method  of  imparting  unction  and  feeling  to 
the  coldness  of  thought,  is  by  meditating  on  the  great  truths 
and  promises  of  Christianity.  This  subject  is  well  treated 
in  Baxter's  "  Saint's  Rest,"  thougli  not  with  reference  to  the 
wants  of  the  orator.  The  power  of  long-continued  and 
earnest  meditation  varies  in  different  persons,  but  all  can 
acquire  it  to  some  degree.  It  may  be  defined  as  a  method 
of  transporting  ones-self  from  a  sense  of  the  present  reality 
to  an  ideal  situation — reaching  and  experiencing  the  feelings 
that  would  naturally  arise  in  that  situation.  Thus  we  may 
experience  some  of  the  pleasures  of  heaven  and  the  society 
of  the  blest.  We  may  walk  the  plains  of  Galilee  with  the 
Lord  and  behold  his  wondrous  love  there  manifested,  almost 
as  if  we  mingled  with  the  throng  who  hung  on  his  gra- 
cious words  ;  we  may  turn  to  the  time  of  our  own  conver- 
sion, and  recall  the  passage  from  despair  to  conscious  life  ; 
or  look  forward  to  the  day  of  our  death,  and  think  of  its 
mingled  sorrow  and  triumph.  It  is  a  kind  of  waking  dream 
by  which  the  mind  is  filled  with  one  idea  to  the  exclusion  of 
all  others.  And  when  we  select  some  high  object  of  con- 
templation and  return  often  to  it,  we  acquire  a  susceptibility 
2* 


34  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 

of  strong  and  fervent  emotion  on  that  subject  which  it  re- 
quires only  a  word  to  arouse.  An  illustration  of  this  is  often 
found  in  the  case  of  an  inventor  or  discoverer  who  has  dwelt 
on  one  subject  until  his  whole  mind  is  filled  with  it,  and  he 
cannot  hear  it  mentioned  without  the  deepest  feeling.  How- 
ever cold  and  listless  he  may  be  on  other  subjects,  touch  but 
the  sacred  one  of  his  fancy,  and  his  sparkling  eye  and  ani- 
mated voice  tell  how  deeply  you  have  roused  the  whole  man. 
What  an  advantage  it  must  be  to  the  extempore  speaker, 
with  whom  everything  depends  on  feeling,  to  have  all  the 
cardinal  facts  he  proclaims  surrounded  by  fountains  of  holy 
emotion,  continually  supplied  from  the  spring  of  meditation, 
and  ready  to  flow  copiously  at  the  slightest  touch  !  Such 
trains  of  thought  may  be  carried  on  in  moments  too  often 
given  to  idleness,  and  thus,  not  only  will  a  mighty  power 
be  added  to  our  pulpit  ministrations,  but  our  whole  life  en- 
nobled and  enriched.  It  has  been  conjectured  that  Milton's 
mind,  while  composing  "  Paradise  Lost,"  existed  in  the  state 
of  a  sublime  waking  dream,  in  which  the  forms  of  heaven 
and  hell,  chaos  and  creation,  all  mingled  in  one  glorious 
vision.  Something  of  this  nature,  though  not  necessarily 
continuous,  must  take  place  in  the  mental  history  of  every 
true  and  powerful  Christian  minister. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

ACQUIREMENTS. — KNOWLEDGE,  GENERAL — OF    BIBLE,  OF 
THEOLOGY,   OF    MEN. 

THOUGHT  is  the  workman  of  the  mind,  and  requires  mate- 
rials upon  which  to  labor.  We  are  such  creatures  of  expe- 
rience that  we  cannot  go  far  beyond  a  foundation  of  fact,  or 
weave  long  trains  of  pure  imagination.  In  the  wildest  fic- 
tion the  mind  can  only  combine  and  rearrange  what  was 
previously  known.  This  necessity  rests  with  added  weight 
upon  the  preacher.  He  cannot  invent  his  materials  in  the 
sense  the  poet  can,  but  must  confine  himself  to  the  state- 
ment of  unadulterated  truth.  Fortunately,  he  has  no  nar- 
row field  to  explore,  for  all  knowledge  is  related  to  his 
themes.  He  has  to  speak  of  God,  by  whom  everything 
exists,  and  whose  glory  shines  through  all  the  works  of  his 
hand.  The  truths  he  utters  apply  to  the  whole  circle  of  life 
and  its  duties,  yet  are  so  familiar  and  so  often  neglected, 
that  he  needs  all  his  power  to  make  them  touch  the  popular 
heart.  There  is  no  science  that  may  not  at  times  be  made 
available  for  illustrating  or  enforcing  the  word  of  God. 

The  want  of  extended  knowledge  will  be  more  severely 
felt  by  an  extempore  preacher,  than  by  one  who  reads  or 
recites.  The  latter  has  time  for  selection,  and  may  take  the 
parts  of  a  subject  with  which  he  is  familiar  and  pass  over 
all  others.  But  the  former  will  find  this  very  dangerous. 
Extemporizing  should  be  free  and  unfettered.  The  speaker 
must  be  able  to  see  his  own  way,  and  make  it  clear  to  his 
hearers.  If  he  is  always  anxious  to  avoid  dangerous  obstruc- 

(35) 


36  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 

tions  and  steer  around  them,  he  will  lose  that  free  flow  of 
ideas  in  which  much  of  the  beauty  of  unstudied  speech  con- 
sists. Let  the  man,  therefore,  who  looks  to  the  preacher's 
vocation,  lay  the  foundation  broad  and  deep  in  a  complete 
education,  not  only  in  that  of  the  schools,  for  the  knowledge 
they  teach  is  very  defective,  but  let  him  know  all  the  facts 
that  hinge  on  common  life ;  the  processes  of  the  different 
pursuits  and  trades ;  the  subjects  that  most  occupy  the 
human  mind ;  the  arts  arid  sciences  in  their  wide  depart- 
ments. We  have  no  hesitation  in  affirming  that  preaching 
ought  to  be  more  scientific  than  it  often  is ;  that  is,  when 
preachers  deal  with  the  phenomena  of  nature,  they  should 
speak  of  them  in  their  true  form,  as  revealed  by  science,  and 
not  indulge  in  loose  generalities  or  popular  misstatements. 
If  he  master  these  and  all  other  branches  of  knowledge,  he 
will  have  at  hand  a  fund  of  illustration  that  will  never  grow 
old,  and  instead  of  being  under  the  necessity  of  turning 
over  books  of  sermons,  and  hunting  out  figures  of  speech 
that  have  done  duty  for  generations,  he  will  be  supplied 
from  nature's  great  volume  with  those  that  are  ever  fresh 
and  new.  They  will  be  redolent  of  the  morning  dew,  the 
sparkle  of  sunlight,  the  life  of  humanity,  rather  than  the 
must  of  books. 

This  knowledge  constitutes  only  the  rough  material  of 
thought.  It  is  the  dust  out  of  which  the  body  is  to  be 
formed,  and  into  which  the  breath  of  life  is  to  be  breathed. 
The  power  of  thinking  comes  from  no  accumulated  intellec- 
tual stores,  but  springs  from  the  living  energy  of  the  soul 
within.  It  is  above  all  dead  brute  force,  and  fills  a  world 
of  its  own.  But  we  would  lay  the  foundation  of  success  in 
oratory  by  giving  the  mind  food,  and  providing  for  it  a 
general  acquaintance  with  the  universe.  This  may  be  super- 
ficial, for  it  is  not  given  to  man  to  be  profound  in  every- 
thing, but  it  will  suffice  to  keep  the  preacher  within  the 
bounds  of  truth,  when,  for  a  time,  he  leaves  his  own  prov- 
ince. 

But  within  that  province,  and  on  all  topics  he  undertakes 


ACQUIREMENTS.  37 

to  discuss,  his  knowledge  should  not  be  superficial.  He 
must  here  hold  out  no  false  light  to  lure  mankind,  but  must 
speak  because  he  knows  the  truth,  and  feels  that  others 
ought  to  know  it.  He  will  then  speak — and  in  his  own 
department  he  has  the  right  to  speak — "  not  as  the  Scribes 
and  Pharisees,  but  as  one  having  authority." 

To  this  end  the  preacher  must  study  the  Bible  most  thor- 
oughly. It  is  the  book  from  which  he  obtains  his  subjects, 
and  the  most  powerful  arguments  by  which  they  are  en- 
forced. He  must  meditate  on  it  by  day  and  night  with  ear- 
nest, loving  zeal.  There  is  not  much  profit  in  merely  read- 
ing it  through  once  or  twice  a  year.  Read  it  prayerfully. 
Study  the  sense.  Strive  to  make  it  a  living  book.  Realize 
the  scenes  it  describes,  the  events  it  records,  and  the  deep 
mysteries  it  unfolds.  There  is  no  study  that  will  increase 
oratorical  power  more  rapidly  than  the  investigation  of  the 
Holy  Scriptures.  They  are  the  best  models  of  eloquence, 
the  exhaustless  armory  from  which  the  preacher  draws  his 
weapons.  To  be  "  mighty  in  the  Scriptures  "  is  one  of  the 
highest  recommendations  he  can  have ;  and,  on  the  other 
hand,  ignorance  of  the  book  it  will  be  his  life  labor  to  ex- 
pound, is  unpardonable,  and  will  expose  him  to  merited  con- 
tempt. 

Many  books  will  be  needed  in  forming  a  critical,  living 
comprehension  of  the  Bible.  The  student  should  become 
familiar  with  the  present  aspect  of  Palestine  and  the  man- 
ners and  customs  of  former  ages.  Judicious  commentaries 
will  help  him  to  penetrate  through  the  covering  which 
thoughtlessness  and  familiarity  have  woven  over  the  sacred 
page,  down  to  its  vital  meaning.  Ancient  history  and  Bible 
dictionaries  will  make  plain  many  obscure  passages.  But 
above  all,  the  Holy  Spirit  throws  a  flood  of  light  over  the 
whole  book,  and  makes  its  dark  places  shine  with  the  radiance 
of  truth.  Get  this  first,  in  a  living  baptism,  and  all  else  will 
be  easy. 

A  knowledge  of  Theology  is  essential.  It  comes  not  with 
the  same  authority  as  the  Word,  for  it  is  only  man's  inter- 


38  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 

pretation  of  what  God  has  revealed,  and  no  one  has  a  right 
to  bind  others  by  the  rule  of  his  own  weak  judgment.  Yet 
we  cannot  despise  assistance  even  here.  He  would  be  very 
foolish  who  would  insist  on  ignoring  the  light  of  science 
and  the  accumulated  lore  of  ages,  that  he  might  dis- 
cover all  truth  for  himself.  Life  is  so  short  and  man's  intel- 
lect so  slow,  that  an  individual  standing  alone  would  never 
get  beyond  the  state  of  a  savage.  We  can  weigh  the  evi- 
dence of  truth  in  an  hour  that  has  taken  years  or  ages  to 
discover.  There  is  no  way  but  to  accept  the  aid  of  others 
even  in  the  matters  that  relate  to  God  and  our  own  souls, 
and  use  it  to  build  up  a  complete  system  of  knowledge, 
being  careful  not  to  surrender  our  independence  of  thought, 
nor  do  violence  to  our  conscience. 

The  knowledge  of  what  men  have  thought  and  done  in 
the  field  of  revelation  is  indispensable.  Without  some  de- 
gree of  it  no  man  is  prepared  for  the  sacred  office.  It  need 
not  all  be  attained  before  beginning  to  preach,  but  should 
be  a  constant  aim.  The  preacher  should  always  be  a  dili- 
gent student.  He  will  never  reach  the  end.  Even  when 
his  head  is  whitening  for  the  grave  he  will  find  the  book  of 
God  an  unexhausted  mine,  and  the  interest  of  newly-dis- 
covered truth  will  impart  such  charm  and  vigor  to  his  dis- 
coveries that  they  will  never  grow  old.  Theology  is  a  vast 
science,  embracing  all  others — an  infinite  field  where  man 
may  exert  all  his  powers,  and  never  cease  for  want  of  new 
realms  to  explore.  •» 

The  preacher  labors  in  the  field  of  humanity,  and  aims 
to  better  the  present  and  future  condition  of  mankind.  He 
needs  to  understand  his  ground,  as  well  as  the  instruments 
of  his  labor.  It  is  through  him  that  divine  truth  reaches 
the  hearts  of  the  multitude.  Unless  he  can  cause  the  people 
to  think  new  thoughts,  and  be  ruled  by  new  motives,  wis- 
dom and  learning  and  brilliancy  are  all  in  vain.  A  know- 
ledge of  the  heart,  and  of  the  best  methods  of  reaching  it, 
are  of  first  importance.  No  matter  if  the  preacher  speaks 
a  truth ;  unless  that  particular  truth  has  an  adaptation  to 


ACQUIREMENTS.  39 

the  present  wants  of  those  whom  he  addresses,  it  will  be,  in 
a  great  measure,  unfruitful.  The  love  of  God,  the  story  of 
the  Cross,  with  many  other  things  revealed  in  the  Bible, 
are  suited  to  all  ages  and  all  men.  But  the  consolations 
intended  for  a  time  of  sorrow  would  fall  strangely  on  the 
ear  of  a  bridal  party.  Exhortations  to  repentance  would 
be  lost  upon  a  congregation  of  sincere  Christians.  Different 
shades  of  experience  need  to  be  met  by  appropriate  instruc- 
tion ;  and  the  minister  who  does  not  watch  all  changing 
circumstances,  and  carefully  adapt  his  words  to  them,  will 
fail  of  the  highest  usefulness.  It  may  be  objected  that,  in 
large  assemblies,  the  presentation  of  any  truth  will  benefit 
some  person,  and  that  all  cannot  be  reached  at  once.  This 
is  partly  true  ;  but  the  attentive  minister  will  find  currents 
of  thought  moving  in  his  congregation  from  d,ay  to  day,  and 
will  be  surprised  to  see  how  often  the  people  are  thinking 
about  the  same  objects.  At  one  time,  the  minds  of  many 
will  be  tinged  with  unbelief;  at  another,  spiritualism  will 
have  its  votaries ;  and  again,  genuine,  earnest  searching  for 
the  truth  will  be  apparent.  He,  who  so.  thoroughly  knows 
the  heart  that  he  can  detect  the  signs  of  these  changes,  has 
the  advantage  possessed  by  a  general  who  is  acquainted 
with  all  the  plans  of  his  antagonist.  A  close  observer  once 
said  that  a  certain  minister  would  never  be  a  revivalist,  be- 
cause he  did  not  seem  to  understand  the  movements  of  the 
Spirit.  There  was  truth  in  his  judgment,  although  the  de- 
ficiency was  rather  in  understanding  human  nature.  That 
preacher  who  can  look  over  his  congregation  as  he  speaks, 
and  discern  something  of  the  state  of  their  hearts,  can 
strike  directly  to  the  mark,  while  the  strength  of  another 
might  be  wasted. 

A  general  knowledge  of  the  motives  by  which  men  are 
governed  will  also  be  of  service.  We  must  employ  proper 
arguments  when  we  seek  to  influence  our  hearers,  for  truth 
may  be  so  presented  as  to  repel  rather  than  attract.  We 
should  know  how  to  appeal  to  self-interest,  for  most  follow 
what  they  believe  to  be  its  dictates.  We  should  be  able  to 


40  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 

excite  their  love  and  sympathy ;  in  short,  we  ought  to  ascer- 
tain what  motive  is  powerful  enough  to  move  them,  and  em- 
ploy it.  This  quick  and  accurate  knowledge  of  the  heart 
is  especially  valuable  to  the  man  who  preaches  without 
notes.  Looking  into  the  eyes  of  the  congregation,  he  will 
see  their  passing  thoughts  and  emotions  often  indicated  with 
great  precision.  He  will  thus  know  when  it  is  best  to  dwell 
on  any  particular  argument,  and  can  press  it  home,  or  leave 
it,  before  the  audience  is  wearied.  He  will,  all  the  time, 
have  the  advantage  of  seeing  his  way  distinctly,  instead  of 
stumbling  along  like  a  blind  man  who  is  conscious  of  no 
obstacle  until  brought  into  contact  with  it.  To  reap  this 
profit,  he  must  be  able  to  read  the  expressions  and  changes 
that  the  heart  throws  over  the  countenance — visible  signs 
of  its  own  state. 

The  proper  way  to  obtain  a  practical  knowledge  of  men 
is  to  mingle  with  and  study  them.  A  preacher  has  great 
opportunities  for  this.  He  need  not  fear  to  lower  his  dignity 
or  impair  his  influence  by  a  free  and  easy  intercourse  with 
all  classes.  The  people  have  acute  perceptions,  and  will 
give  him  credit  for  all  that  is  good  in  him ;  and  he  has  no 
right  to  demand  more.  Indeed,  if  he  have  not  native  good- 
ness and  intelligence  enough  to  retain  the  confidence  of  his 
people  in  the  closest  social  intercourse,  the  sooner  he  re- 
linquishes his  office  the  better  for  all  concerned.  It  is  no 
excuse  to  say  that  he  cannot  spare  time  from  his  studies ; 
for  no  labor  will  more  surely  bring  a  return  of  added  power 
and  eloquence  than  the  study  of  his  flock  around  their  own 
hearths.  The  best  books  are  only  transcripts  of  the  human 
heart,  and  here  he  can  study  the  original  in  all  its  freshness. 

But  merely  to  mingle  with  the  people  will  not  fully  culti- 
vate this  critical  knowledge  of  character,  unless  it  is  made 
a  particular  study.  A  good  way  of  doing  this  is  to  write 
down  our  first  thoughts  and  impressions  of  persons  we  come 
in  contact  with,  and  test  our  correctness  by  subsequent  ex- 
perience. We  thus  discover  the  source  of  our  errors,  and 
avoid  them  in  future,  and,  at  the  same  time,  form  a  habit 


ACQUIREMENTS.  41 

of  observation  which,  if  continued  for  years,  will  increase  the 
acuteness  of  our  perceptions  until  we  are  able  to  read  men 
at  the  first  glance. 

But  most  valuable  of  all  means  for  attaining  this  power, 
is  a  thorough,  'practical  acquaintance  with  Phrenology. 
Much  ridicule  has  been  thrown  on  this  science  by  traveling 
imposters,  who  have  practiced  character-reading,  together 
with  witchcraft  and  fortune-telling — just  as  astronomy  and 
astrology  were  once  joined.  But  such  associations  are  not 
more  necessary  than  that  sometimes  supposed  to  exist  between 
geology  and  unbelief.  Phrenology  is  a  branch  of  the  induc- 
tive sciences,  established  and  tested  by  observation  and  experi- 
ment. Its  two  cardinal  principles  are :  First,  that  the  brain  is 
the  organ  of  mind  ;  second,  that  different  mental  functions  are 
performed  by  different  parts  of  the  brain.  The  latter  is  no 
more  unreasonable  than  to  suppose  that  the  different  bodily 
actions,  walking,  lifting,  eating,  smelling,  etc.,  are  performed 
by  different  parts  of  the  body.  The  first  proposition  is  ad- 
mitted by  all ;  and  if  the  second  is  allowed  to  be  reason- 
able, it  then  becomes  easy  to  determine  whether  the  corres- 
pondence of  faculty  and  organ  in  any  case  is  sufficiently 
proved.  The  poets,  Whittier  and  Bryant,  Horace  Greeley  and 
the  eminent  educator,  Horace  Mann,  all  professed  to  derive 
great  advantage  from  the  study.  Henry  Ward  Beecher, 
who  stands  among  the  first  of  living  orators,  attributes  all 
his  power  "in  making  sermons^"  to  the  early  and  constant 
study  of  Phrenology.  It  is  an  instructive  fact,  that  although 
the  different  organs  were  discovered  singly  and  at  long 
intervals,  yet  when  the  contributions  of  'many  laborers 
have  been  brought  together,  the  result  is  a  most  beautiful 
and  perfect  mental  philosophy — contrasting  with  the  war- 
ring systems  of  metaphysics  as  the  clear  sunlight  does  with 
clouds  and  night.  We  give  it  as  a  deliberate  opinion  that  it 
is  better  for  the  preacher  to  remain  ignorant  of  any  one  of 
the  natural  sciences  or  learned  languages,  than  to  neglect 
that  study  which  unfolds  the  laws  of  mind  and  teaches  us 
to  understand  our  fellow  men. 


CHAPTER  IY. 

CULTIVATION  —  IMAGINATION LANGUAGE  —  GESTURE  — 

CONFIDENCE. 

THE  ability  to  convey  our  thoughts  to  others  may  be  very 
greatly  increased  by  culture.  The  vastest  accumulations  of 
learning  will  not  be  useful  to  the  world  unless  there  is  an 
available  channel  by  which  they  may  be  transmitted.  We 
will  consider  a  few  of  the  elements  that  make  a  man  ready 
in  communicating  his  ideas. 

Imagination  is  often  thought  to  be  unnecessary  to  the 
sacred  orator;  but  if  he  resign  to  the  poet  and  novelist 
that  faculty  that  deals  with  beauty  in  all  its  forms,  the 
lovers  of  beauty  will  be  apt  to  desert  the  churches  and 
seek  gratification  where  it  can  be  found.  Imagination,  in 
its  legitimate  sphere,  is  as  necessary  as  the  power  of  reason- 
ing, or  the  sentiment  of  devotion.  It  deals  with  truth  as 
well  as  fiction,  and  gives  to  its  possessor  the  creative,  life- 
breathing  spirit  of  poetry.  Listen  to  the  description  of  any 
piece  of  natural  scenery  by  a  person  of  imagination  and  an- 
other destitute  of  it.  They  may  describe  with  equal  truth- 
fulness, and  even  allude  to  the  same  objects ;  but  one  will 
give  a  dry  catalogue  of  facts,  on  which  the  mind  cannot  fix 
without  painful  effort,  while  the  other  gives  a  picture  that 
fills  us  with  delight.  The  same  difference  is  apparent  in 
the  commonest  things.  In  relating  a  story  or  enforcing  an 
argument,  the  man  who  has?  this  rare  and  wonderful  power 
will  make  his  words  glow  with  life,  and  arrest  our  attention. 

It  has  been  said  of  Henry  Ward  Beecher,  who  possesses  so 
(42) 


CULTIVATION.  43 

strong  an  imagination,  that  the  people  would  listen  with  won- 
der if  he  were  only  describing  the  way  a  potato  grew.  This 
is  literally  true.  He  would  see  in  it  a  thousand  beauties  no 
one  else  had  thought  of,  and  paint  the  picture  with  a  force 
and  accuracy  that  would  command  attention.  His  own  con- 
ceptions are  exceedingly  clear,  and  while  his  knowledge  is 
great,  his  imagination  enables  him  to  concentrate  everything 
into  a  clear  and  vivid  description. 

Even  the  Bible,  which  is  the  preacher's  great  example,  is 
pre-eminently  a  book  of  imagination.  Nowhere  is  there 
loftier  or  more  beautiful  imagery  employed,  or  truth 
wrought  into  more  exquisite  forms.  A  few  short  and 
simple  words  paint  pictures  that  the  world  looks  upon  with 
astonishment  from  age  to  age.  The  first  chapters  of  Genesis 
contain  as  much  poetry  as  Paradise  Lost ;  in  fact,  it  is  the 
poetry  of  these  chapters  interpreted  by  a  mighty  mind  that 
illuminates  the  most  sublime  imaginative  poem  in  the  lan- 
guage of  man.  Job  and  Isaiah  are  without  rivals  in  the 
mighty  imagination  that  "  bodies  forth  the  forms  of  things 
unknown."  Even  the  New  Testament,  which  we  usually 
consider  as  a  plain  narrative,  sparkles  with  true  poetry. 
Where  will  we  find  a  more  graceful  thought  than  that  of 
our  Saviour's :  "  Consider  the  lilies  of  the  field,  how  they 
grow  ;  they  toil  not,  neither  do  they  spin ;  yet  I  say  unto 
you,  that  Solomon  in  all  his  glory  was  not  arrayed  like  one 
of  these."  The  Book  of  Revelation  is  full  of  glorious  and 
awful  figures  addressed  to  the  imagination. 

With  such  sanctions,  the  preacher  need  not  fear  to  em- 
ploy all  of  this  faculty  that  God  has  given  him.  Many  of 
his  subjects  are  in  the  remote  past,  and  can  only  be  brought 
near  enough  to  the  people  to  awaken  their  interest  by  one  who 
can  view  them  as  present.  There  is  no  possibility  of  nov- 
elty in  our  themes.  Times  are  altered  since  Paul  was  ac- 
cused as  a  setter-forth  of  strange  doctrines.  Men  have 
listened  to  the  same  stories  all  their  lives.  Yet  if  the 
preacher  can  make  the  sublime  scenes  of  the  Bible  live  in 
his  own  mind,  he  can  describe  them  with  the  vivacity  of  an 


44  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 

eye-witness.  All  have  noticed  the  interest  excited  in  the 
midst  of  a  dry  sermon  by  a  simple  story.  The  reason  is, 
that  the  preacher  was,  at  first,  dealing  with  abstractions- 
mere  words,  and  nothing  more — but  when  he  came  to  the 
story  his  heart  and  imagination  took  hold  on  it.  The  same 
interest  may  be  excited  in  any  part  of  a  sermon  if  the  speaker 
can  but  throw  his  own  soul  into  it,  and  see  what  he  describes. 

The  account  of  the  storming  of  Lookout  Mountain,  as 
given  by  Bishop  Simpson,  was  a  fine  illustration  of  this. 
The  incident  is  perfectly  familiar,  and  in  describing  it  he 
used  simple  words,  without  the  false  brilliancy  that  some- 
times passes  for  eloquence.  There  was  no  particular  charm 
in  his  manner,  but  his  imagination  grasped  the  magnificent 
achievement,  and  it  stood  out  in  all  its  fullness  before  the 
eyes  of  the  audience.  They  saw  the  old  flag  disappear  in 
the  cloud,  and  the  long  lines  of  blue  wind  up  the  mountain 
until  they  were  hidden  in  the  same  obscurity ;  heard  the 
thunder  that  man's  artillery  made  boom  out  of  the  bosom  of 
the  cloud ;  then  saw  the  flag  emerge  from  the  mist  and 
heard  the  cheer  of  victory  ringing  down  from  the  sky. 
The  eflect  upon  the  audience  was  overwhelming,  and  irrepres- 
sible tears  streamed  from  the  eyes  of  all.. 

Such  glory  may  be  thrown  around  the  teaching  of  the 
Bible,  and  every  word  be  true;  and  the  audience  will  enjoy 
it  more  than  if  they  were  actually  carried  back  to  the  olden 
time  and  witnessed  its  wondrous  scenes  with  their  own  eyes  ; 
for  they  will  have — what  so  many  feel  the  want  of  when  gaz- 
ing on  memorable  scenes — some  one  to  interpret  their  feel- 
ings and  give  them  living  sympathy. 

While  illustrations  and  comparisons  flow  principally  from 
the  reasoning  faculties,  they  derive  their  beauty  from  imag- 
ination. Without  its  influence  they  may  explain  and 
simplify,  but  have  no  power  to  interest  the  hearer  or  elevate 
the  tenor  of  the  discourse.  Beecher  excels  in  this  as  in  so 
many  other  things,  and  while  his  similes  may  take  hold  of 
the  most  common  things,  they  are  always  highly  imaginative 
and  appropriate. 


CULTIVATION.  45 

How  may  imagination  be  cultivated  ?  It  is  said  that 
"  poets  are  born,  not  made  ;"  but  the  foundation  of  every 
other  faculty  is  in  nature,  while  all  are  useless  unless  im- 
proved and  applied.  It,  too,  will  increase  in  power  by 
use.  Imagination  is  the  faculty  that  forms  complete  images 
from  the  detached  materials  furnished  by  the  senses.  It 
takes  from  all  sources,  and  mixes  and  mingles  until  a  perfect 
picture  is  formed.  Now,  the  proper  way  of  cultivating  it  is 
by  forming  just  such  pictures.  Let  the  preacher  throw  on 
the  canvas  of  the  mind  every  part  of  his  sermon  that  is 
capable  of  sensible  representation.  It  is  not  enough  to  have 
all  the  facts,  but  he  must  cast  them  into  the  very  shape  he 
wishes  them  to  take.  A  great  part  of  every  sermon  may 
thus  be  made  pictorial,  and  be  far  more  easily  remembered, 
and  more  effectively  delivered.  Even  in  doctrinal  sermons, 
use  may  be  made  of  this  principle,  by  forming  clear  mental 
images  of  the  illustrations,  which  are  mostly  from  material 
objects.  When  Henry  Bascom  was  asked  how  he  succeeded 
in  preaching  so  well,  he  said  that  it  was  by  painting  every- 
thing vividly  in  his  mind,  and  then  speaking  of  it  as  he  saw 
it  before  him.  He  was  a  man  of  unbounded  imagination, 
and  perhaps  allowed  it  too  much  influence  in  his  discourses ; 
but  his  example  is  most  instructive  to  that  large  number 
who  have  not  enough  to  prevent  their  sermons  from  being 
dim  and  dry. 

But  the  preacher  must  use  this  faculty  with  great  care,  for 
it  is  an  edged  tool.  He  deals  in  sacred  things,  and  while  he 
may  approach  the  burning  bush  where  the  Lord  is,  he  must 
go  with  naked  feet  and  softest  tread.  Above  all,  truth  and 
propriety  may  never  be  violated.  That  imaginative  preacher 
who  pictured  to  his  hearers  the  bustle  of  a  railway  station, 
the  rush  of  the  train,  the  crowding  of  friends  around  to  wel- 
come the  passengers,  and  conspicuous  among  them,  the  gray- 
haired  father  of  the  prodigal  son,  hurrying  with  tottering 
steps  to  the  edge  of  the  platform,  and  there  grasping  the 
returning  penitent  by  the  hand,  may  have  produced  a  vivid 
picture,  but  his  sermon  scarcely  tended  to  edification  ! 


46  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 

This  faculty  may  also  be  cultivated  by  reading  and  pon- 
dering the  works  of  those  who  have  it  in  a  high  degree  of 
perfection.  The  time  devoted  to  the  study  of  the  great 
poets  is  not  lost.  They  give  richness  and  tone  to  the 
speaker's  mind,  introduce  him  into  scenes  of  ideal  beauty, 
and  furnish  him  with  many  a  striking  thought  and  glowing 
image  to  be  woven  into  his  future  discourses. 

Many  of  the  sciences  give  as  full  scope  to  imagination  in 
its  best  workings  as  the  fields  of  poesy.  Astronomy  and 
geology  stand  pre-eminent  in  this  particular.  Everything 
about  them  is  great.  They  deal  with  immense  periods  of 
time,  immeasurable  magnitudes  and  sublimest  histories. 
Hugh  Miller's  "  Vision  of  Creation"  is  as  replete  with  imag- 
ination as  a  play  of  Shakespeare,  and  his  other  works  sparkle 
with  the  same  radiant  spirit.  Each  science  requires  the  for- 
mation of  mental  images,  and  thus  approaches  the  domain 
of  poetry.  The  dryness  of  mathematical  and  scientific 
study  is  a  pure  myth.  A  philosopher  once  said  that  poetry 
and  the  higher  branches  of  science  depended  on  the  same 
powers  of  mind.  He  was  right.  The  poet  is  a  creator  who 
forms  new  worlds  of  his  own,  and  "  gives  to  airy  nothing 
a  local  habitation  and  a  name."  He  pictures  the  idea  that 
arises  in  his  brain  in  all  the  vividness  of  outward  form. 
The  man  of  science  is  required  to  do  the  same  thing,  with 
the  advantage,  perhaps,  of  a  few  scattered  hints.  The 
geologist  may  have  a  few  broken  bones,  a  withered 
leaf,  and  some  fragments  of  rock,  from  which  to  bring 
before  him  the  true  "  forest  primeval,"  through  which 
roamed  gigantic  animals,  and  dragons  more  unsightly  than 
ever  figured  in  Grecian  mythology.  The  astronomer  has 
the  half  dozen  phenomena  he  can  observe  with  his  telescope 
from  which  to  conceive  the  physical  appearance  of  distant 
worlds.  In  every  science  the  same  need  for  imagination  in 
its  high,  truthful  function  exists,  and  the  same  opportunity 
is  afforded  for  its  cultivation. 

An  eminent  elocutionist  once  advised  his  class  to  employ 
all  pauses  in  mentally  painting  the  idea  conveyed  in  the 


CULTIVATION.  47 

coming  sentence.  By  this  means,  he  said,  the  expression  of 
the  voice  would  be  made  deeper  and  truer.  If  this  is  so 
important  in  reciting  the  words  of  others,  how  much  more 
should  we  observe  it  when  improvising  sentences  as  well  as 
modulations. 

Our  conceptions  may  remain  vague  and  intangible  while 
within  the  mind,  but  they  can  only  reach  others  by  tak- 
ing the  definite  form  of  language.  It  by  no  means  follows 
that  a  man  who  has  important  ideas  and  deep  emotions,  will 
be  able  to  communicate  them ;  but  if  he  have  a  moderate 
endowment  of  language  it  may  be  so  cultivated  as  to  answer 
all  his  requirements.  We  have  no  doubt  that  diligent  and 
long-continued  practice  in  the  methods  indicated  below  will 
enable  the  vast  majority  of  men  to  express  their  thoughts 
with  clearness  and  fluency. 

There  are  certain  laws  in  every  language,  made  binding 
by  custom,  which  cannot  be  transgressed  without  exposing 
the  transgressor  to  ridicule.  These  constitute  grammar, 
and  must  be  thoroughly  learned.  If  a  man  has  been  under 
the  influence  of  good  models  in  speech  from  childhood,  cor- 
rectness will  be  a  matter  almost  of  instinct ;  but  the  reverse 
of  this  is  usually  the  case. 

At  the  present  day,  there  is  little  difficulty  in  learning  to 
write  in  accordance  with  the  rules  of  composition;  and 
when  the  power  has  been  attained,  we  have  a  standard  by 
which  to  judge  our  spoken  words.  But  it  is  not  enough  for 
the  extempore  speaker  to  be  able,  by  long  effort,  to  reduce 
his  sentences  to  correctness.  That  should  be  the  first  and 
spontaneous  form  in  which  they  present  themselves.  He 
has  no  time  to  think  of  right  or  wrong  constructions,  and 
the  only  safe  way  is  to  make  the  right  so  habitual  that  the 
wrong  will  not  once  be  thought  of.  In  other  words,  we 
must  not  only  be  able  to  express  ourselves  correctly  by 
tongue  and  pen,  but  the  very  current  of  thought  which  is 
flowing  ceaselessly  through  our  brain,  and  which  is  usually 
clothed  in  unspoken  words,  must  be  in  accordance  with  the 
laws  of  language.  When  we  have  attained  the  power  of 


48  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 

precise  and  accurate  thinking,  we  will  have  no  difficulty  in 
avoiding  the  ridiculous  blunders  sometimes  supposed  to  be 
inseparable  from  extemporaneous  speech. 

Correct  pronunciation  is  also  of  great  importance.  Usage 
has  the  same  authority  here  as  in  the  collocation  of  words,  and 
has  assigned  to  each  one  its  proper  sound,  which  no  speaker 
can  mistake  without  being  exposed  to  misconception  and 
damaging  criticism.  A  deficient  knowledge  of  pronuncia- 
tion is  apt  to  produce  another  and  extremely  hurtful  effect. 
The  mental  effort  necessary  to  determine  between  two  dif- 
ferent sounds  that  may  be  suggested,  is  liable  to  divert  the 
mind  from  the  subject  it  is  engaged  upon,  and  thus  occasion 
embarrassment  and  hesitation.  That  accuracy  in  the  use 
of  words,  which  is  the  charm  of  spoken  no  less  than  written 
composition,  may  also  be  impaired ;  for  if  two  or  more  terms 
for  one  object  flash  into  the  speaker's  mind,  only  one  of 
which  he  is  confident  of  his  ability  to  pronounce,  he  will  be 
strongly  tempted  to  use  that  one,  even  if  it  be  the  least 
suitable.  He  ought  to  know  how  to  pronounce  all  common 
w^ords,  and  be  so  familiar  with  the  right  sound  and  accent, 
that  no  other  will  ever  enter  his  mind.  Then  he  will  be  able 
to  select  the  terms  that  convey  his  meaning  most  clearly 
and  strongly. 

One  blunder  in  pronunciation  should  be  particularly 
shunned  by  every  person  of  good  taste.  This  is  the  omis- 
sion of  the  sound  of  "  r"  in  places  where  it  rightly  belongs. 
It  is  strange  that  this  shameful  perversion  of  language 
should  be  popular  in  certain  circles.  It  is  so  easily  observed 
and  corrected  that  the  poor  excuse  of  ignorance  is  scarcely 
admissible,  and  in  general  it  can  be  attributed  only  to  silly 
affectation.  This  sound  is  as  musical  as  most  others,  and 
the  attempt  to  improve  the  melody  of  our  speech  by  its 
omission  is  on  a  par  with  the  efforts  of  our  great-grand- 
mothers to  improve  their  beauty  by  affixing  patches  to  their 
cheeks  and  noses. 

Fluency  and  accuracy  in  the  use  of  words  are  two  qual- 
ities that  have  often  been  confounded,  but  are  really  distinct. 


CULTIVATION.  49 

They  are  of  equal  importance  to  the  speaker,  while  the 
writer  has  most  need  of  the  latter.  All  words  have  separate 
and  well-defined  meanings.  They  are  not  the  product  of  a 
day,  but  have  been  building  up  through  long  ages.  By 
strange  turns,  and  with  many  a  curious  history,  have  they 
glided  into  the  significations  they  now  bear ;  but  each  one 
has  become  imbedded  in  the  minds  of  the  people  as  the 
representative  of  a  certain  idea.  No  two  words  are  pre- 
cisely alike.  They  are  delicate  paints  that,  to  the  untutored 
eye,  may  seem  of  one  color,  but  each  of  which  has  its  own 
place  in  the  picture  created  by  the  hand  of  genius,  that 
can  be  supplied  by  no  other.  Many  ways  have  been  sug- 
gested to  learn  these  fine  shades  of  meaning.  It  is  often 
supposed  that  the  study  of  the  so-called  learned  languages — 
Latin  and  Greek — was  the  best  and  almost  only  method. 
This  will  certainly  give  a  large  amount  of  information  con- 
cerning the  origin  and  formation  of  words ;  but  it  can- 
not fix  their  signification  at  the  present  day,  for  radical 
changes  of  meaning  often  take  place.  A  linguist  can  use 
his  knowledge  to  great  advantage  ;  but  the  man  who  knows 
no  language  but  his  own  need  not  consider  himself  as  de- 
barred from  the  very  highest  place  as  a  master  of  words. 
He  can  obtain  the  same  knowledge  in.  a  more  condensed  and 
accessible  form  by  the  study  of  a  good  etymological  dic- 
tionary. In  general  reading,  let  him  mark  every  word  he 
does  not  perfectly  understand,  and  referring  to  the  diction- 
ary, find  what  it  came  from,  the  meaning  of  its  roots,  and 
its  varied  significations  at  the  present  day.  This  will  make 
the  word  so  familiar,  that,  when  he  meets  it  again,  it  will 
seem  like  an  old  acquaintance,  and  he  will  notice  if  the 
author  uses  it  correctly.  He  may  not  be  able  thus  to  study 
every  word  in  the  language,  but  will  be  led  to  think  of  the 
meaning  of  each  one  he  sees ;  and  from  this  silent  practice 
will  learn  the  beauty  and  power  of  the  English  tongue  as 
perfectly  as  if  he  were  master  of  the  languages  of  Greece 
and  Rome.  If  this  habit  is  long-continued,  it  will  teach  him 
to  use  words  truly  in  his  very  thoughts,  and  then  he  cannot 
mistake  even  in  the  hurry  of  speech. 
3 


50  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 

Translating  from  any  language,  ancient  or  modern,  will 
have  just  the  same  tendency  to  teach  accurate  expression 
as  careful  original  composition.  In  either  case,  improve- 
ment comes  from  the  search  for  words  that  will  exactly 
convey  certain  ideas,  and  it  matters  not  what  the  source  of 
these  latter  may  be.  The  use  of  a  good  manual  of  syno- 
nyms—  a  thesaurus,  or  storehouse  of  words  —  may  be  of 
service,  by  showing  all  terms  that  relate  to  any  object  in 
one  view,  and  allowing  us  to  choose  the  most  suitable. 

But  none  of  these  methods  will  very  greatly  increase  our 
fluency.  There  is  a  difference  between  merely  knowing  a 
term  and  that  easy  use  long  practice  alone  can  give.  Elihu 
Burritt,  with  his  fifty  languages,  has  often  been  surpassed 
in  fluency,  force  and  variety  of  expression  by  an  unlettered 
rustic,  because  the  few  words  the  latter  knew  were  always 
ready.  This  readiness  will  always  increase  by  use.  The 
blacksmith's  arm,  hardening  by  the  exertion  it  puts  forth? 
is  a  trite  illustration  of  the  effect  of  exercise ;  and  the  man 
who  is  always  applying  to  ideas  and  things  the  verbal  signs 
by  which  they  are  known,  will  increase  the  facility  with 
which  he  can  call  them  to  mind.  If  he  does  not  employ 
them  properly,  his  manner  will  not  improve,  and  with  all 
his  fluency  he  will  speak  incorrectly.  But  if  he  speak  in 
accordance  with  established  usage,  his  ability  will  daily 
increase. 

Conversation  is  an  excellent  means  for  this  kind  of  culti- 
vation. We  do  not  mean  a  running  fire  of  question  and 
answer,  glancing  so  rapidly  back  and  forth  as  to  give  no 
time  for  premeditating  or  explaining  anything,  but  real, 
rational  talk — an  exchange  of  ideas,  so  clearly  expressed  as 
to  make  them  intelligible.  The  man  who  deals  much  in 
this  kind  of  conversation  can  scarcely  fail  to  become  a 
master  of  the  art  of  communicating  his  thoughts  in  appro- 
priate language.  Talk,  express  your  ideas  when  you  can 
with  propriety,  or  when  you  have  an  idea  to  express.  Do 
it  in  the  best  way  possible.  If  hard  at  first,  it  will  become 
easier,  and  thus  you  will  learn  eloquence  in  the  best  and 
most  pleasing  school.  For  the  common  conversational 


CULTIVATION.  51 

style — that  in  which  man  deals  with  his  fellowman — is  the 
germ  of  true  oratory.  It  may  be  amplified  and  system- 
atized ;  but  talking  bears  to  eloquence  the  same  relation 
the  soil  does  to  the  tree  that  springs  from  its  bosom. 

But  the  best  thoughts  of  men  are  seldom  found  floating 
on  the  sea  of  common  talk.  If  we  wish  to  drink  the 
deepest  inspiration,  our  minds  must  come  often  in  loving 
contact  with  the  words  of  the  great  and  mighty  of  every 
age.  There  we  will  find  "  thought  knit  close  to  thought ;" 
and,  what  is  more  to  the  present  purpose,  words,  in  their 
best  acceptance,  so  applied  as  to  breathe  and  live.  We  can 
read  these  passages  until  their  spirit  sinks  into  our  hearts, 
and  their  melody  rings  in  our  ears  like  a  song  of  bliss.  If 
we  commit  them  to  memory,  it  will  be  a  profitable  employ- 
ment. The  words  of  which  they  are  composed,  with  the 
meanings  they  bear  in  their  several  places,  will  thus  be 
fixed  in  our  minds,  and  ready  to  drop  on  our  tongues  when 
they  are  needed.  This  conning  of  passages  is  not  recom- 
mended for  the  purpose  of  quotation,  though  they  may 
often  be  thus  used  to  good  advantage;  but  to  print  the 
individual  words  of  which  they  are  composed  more  deeply 
on  the  memory. 

This  may  be  effected  also  by  committing  selections  from 
our  own  compositions.  What  is  thus  used  should  be  pol- 
ished, and  yet  preserve,  as  far  as  possible,  the  natural  form 
of  expression.  When  this  is  done  to  a  moderate  extent, 
it  has  a  tendency  to  elevate  the  character  of  our  extempor- 
aneous efforts  by  erecting  a  standard  that  is  our  own,  and 
therefore  suited  to  our  tastes  and  capacities,  at  the  very 
highest  point  we  can  reach.  But  if  this  is  made  habitual, 
it  will  interfere  with  the  power  of  spontaneous  production, 
and  thus  contribute  to  destroy  the  faculty  it  was  designed 
to  cultivate.  Ministers  who  write  and  commijb  all  their  ser- 
mons, are  accustomed  to  read  from  a  mental  copy  of  their 
manuscript ;  and  the  force  of  habit  binds  them  more  and  more 
closely  to  it  until  they  cannot  speak  otherwise.  When  such 
persons  are  unexpectedly  called  upon  to  make  a  speech,  they 


52  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 

do  it,  not  in  the  simple,  easy  language  that  becomes  such  an 
occasion,  but  by  throwing  together  bits  of  previously-com- 
mitted addresses.  They  hfive  made  what  might  be  an 
agent  of  improvement,  the  means  of  so  stereotyping  their 
minds  that  they  can  only  move  in  one  channel  unless  time 
is  given  them  to  dig  out  another. 

There  is  no  means  of  cultivating  language  that  surpasses 
extempore  speech  itself.  The  only  difficulty  is  to  find  occa- 
sion to  speak  often  enough.  The  pioneer  Methodist  itiner- 
ants, who  had  to  preach  every  day  in  the  week,  enjoyed  this 
mode  of  cultivation  to  its  full  extent ;  and  whatever  may  be 
thought  of  their  other  merits,  their  fluency  of  speech  is  be- 
yond question.  But  long  intervals  of  preparation  bring 
counterbalancing  advantages  at  the  present  time.  Let 
these  be  improved  in  the  way  indicated  hereafter,  and  the 
preacher  will  come  to  the  sacred  desk  with  a  power  in- 
creased by  each  effort. 

When  a  thought  is  clearly  understood,  it  will  fall  into 
words  as  naturally  as  a  summer  cloud,  riven  by  lightning, 
dissolves  into  rain.  So  easy  is  it  to  express  an  idea,  or 
series  of  ideas,  that  have  been  completely  mastered,  that  :i 
successful  minister  once  said:  "  It  is  a  preacher's  own  fault 
if  he  ever  fails  in  a  sermon.  Let  him  prepare  as  he  ought, 
and  there  is  no  danger."  The  assertion  was  too  sweeping, 
for  there  are  sometimes  external  causes  that  will  prevent 
full  success.  Yet  there  is  no  doubt  that  the  continuance  of 
this  thorough  preparation,  in  connection  with  frequent 
speaking,  will  give  very  great  ease  of  expression.  "  The 
blind,  but  eloquent"  Milburn,  says,  that  he  gave  four  years 
of  his  life — the  time  spent  as  chaplain  at  Washington — to 
acquire  the  power  of  speaking  correctly  and  easily  without 
the  previous  use  of  the  pen,  and  considered  the  time  exceed- 
ingly well  spent.  His  manner  is  that  most  difficult  to  ac- 
quire— the  diffuse,  sparkling,  rhetorical  style  so  much  prized 
by  those  who  prefer  flower  to  fruit.  An  earnest,  nervous, 
and  yet  elegant  style  can  be  acquired  by  most  persons  in 
much  less  time. 


CULTIVATION.  53 

There  is  another  thought  that  those  who  complain  of  defi- 
cient language  would  do  well  to  ponder.  No  one  can  use 
words  well  on  any  subject  of  which  he  is  ignorant.  The 
most  fluent  man,  who  knows  nothing  of  astronomy,  would 
find  himself  at  great  loss  for  words  if  he  attempted  to  ex- 
plain the  phenomena  of  the  heavenly  bodies.  Even  if  he 
were  shown  an  orrery,  and  thus  led  to  comprehend  their 
motions,  he  would  still  be  ignorant  of  the  proper  terms  by 
which  such  knowledge  is  conveyed.  If  he  attempted  to 
explain  what  he  understood  so  imperfectly,  he  would  be 
apt  to  hesitate,  and  finally  use  words  and  names  incor- 
rectly. As  our  ideas  become  clear  and  defined,  there  is 
an  intense  hungering  for  the  terms  by  which  they  are  ex- 
pressed ;  and  this  hunger  will  lead  to  its  own  supply.  Let 
us  increase  our  fluency  by  extending  the  bounds  of  our 
knowledge  ;  but  ask  of  language  nothing  more  than  belongs 
to  its  true  function — to  furnish  means  of  expression  for  the 
ideas  we  already  possess. 

The  voice,  assisted  by  gesture,  forms  the  immediate  link 
between  the  speaker  and  his  audience.  Its  qualities  are  of 
great  importance,  although,  in  some  quarters,  over-estimated. 
A  good  voice,  well  managed,  gives  powerful  and  vivid  ex- 
pression to  thought,  but  cannot  answer  as  a  substitute  for 
it.  Neither  is  it  indispensable.  We  have  known  many  and 
great  instances  of  success  against  much  vocal  disadvantage ; 
but  this  only  proves  that  its  absence  may  be  compensated 
by  other  excellencies.  We  can  never  be  indiflerent  to  the 
charm  of  a  well-modulated  voice,  bending  to  every  emotion, 
and  responsive  to  the  finest  shades  of  feeling.  It  makes 
ordinary  talk  so  smooth  and  pleasant  as  to  be  generally  ac- 
ceptable, but  can  never  raise  it  to  greatness.  The  instances 
that  are  given  to  prove  this,  do  not  seem  capable  of  bear- 
ing such  an  interpretation.  Whitfield  is  sometimes  spoken 
of  as  an  instance  of  what  can  be  accomplished  by  masterly 
elocution  ;  but  he  was  a  man  of  fervent,  if  not  profound 
thought.  His  emotion  was  overpowering,  and  his  voice, 
with  all  its  melody,  was  only  an  instrument  for  its  expres- 


54  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 

sion.  Let  a  bad  or  indifferent  man  have  Whitfield's  voice 
and  manner  in  completeness,  and  he  would  be  but  a  dis- 
gusting declaimer.  It  is  soul  that  must  speak  through  the 
voice  to  other  souls,  and  only  thus  can  the  mighty  effects  of 
eloquence  be  produced. 

We  do  not  think  there  is  much  virtue  in  the  merely  me- 
chanical training  of  the  voice.  To  teach  the  pupil  just 
what  note  on  the  scale  he  must  strike  to  express  a  particu- 
lar emotion,  how  much  of  an  inflection  must  be  used  to  in- 
dicate sudden  joy  or  sorrow,  and  how  many  notes  down  the 
scale  mark  a  complete  suspension  of  sense,  is  absurd.  Speech 
can  never  be  set  to  music. 

But  from  this  let  it  not  be  inferred  that  the  cultivation 
of  the  voice  is  useless.  It  is  the  instrument  for  the  expres- 
tion  of  thought,  and  the  more  perfect  it  can  be  made  the 
better  it  is  fitted  for  its  high  office.  It  would  be  well  for 
the  preacher  to  spend  some  time  every  day  for  years  in 
vocal  training,  for  there  is  nothing  more  susceptible  of  im- 
provement than  the  voice.  The  passion  excited  during 
animated  speech  will  demand  almost  every  note  and  key 
within  its  compass,  and  unless  it  has  been  previously  trained 
on  these,  it  may  fail.  To  prepare  in  this  way  by  exploring 
the  range  of  the  voice,  and  testing  all  its  capabilities,  has  in 
it  nothing  mechanical  or  slavish.  It  is  only  like  putting  a 
musical  instrument  in  tune  before  beginning  to  play. 

Nothing  contributes  so  much  to  give  ability  to  manage 
the  voice  as  the  separation  of  words  into  the  simple  ele- 
ments of  sound,  and  continued  practice  in  the  enunciation 
of  these.  They  can  be  best  learned  from  the  short-hand 
system  of  tachygraphy  or  phonography,  or  from  the  pho- 
netic print.  In  these  we  find  sound  resolved  into  its  ele- 
ments, which  are  but  few  in  number,  and  on  which  we  can 
practice  until  every  difficulty  in  enunciation  is  overcome. 
If  there  is  a  fault  in  our  articulation,  we  will  find  just  where 
it  is,  and  can  bring  all  our  practice  directly  to  its  remedy. 
When  we  are  able  to  give  clearly  each  one  of  the  separate 
sounds  of  the  language — not  many  over  forty  in  number — 


CULTIVATION.  55 

we  can  easily  follow  them  into  all  their  combinations,  and 
are  thus  master  of  the  tirst  great  excellency  in  speaking — 
good  articulation.  Nor  is  this  all.  We  can  then  practice 
on  the  same  elements,  at  different  degrees  of  elevation  on 
the  musical  scale,  until  we  can  strike  every  one  in  full  round 
distinctness  at  each  point,  from  the  shrillest  note  used  in 
speech  to  the  deepest  bass.  Then  the  whole  field  of  oratory 
is  open  before  us. 

But  there  is  still  another  advantage :  if  our  strength  of 
voice  be  not  so  great  as  we  would  wish,  we  can  take  the 
same  sounds,  and  by  practicing  upon  them  with  a  gradually- 
increasing  effort,  attain  all  the  force  our  organs  are  capable 
of,  and  even  increase  their  power  to  a  degree  that  would 
be  incredible,  were  it  not  so  often  proved  by  actual  experi- 
ment. When  engaged  in  these  practices,  we  will  notice  a 
distinction  between  the  vowel  sounds — that  while  some  of 
them  may  be  prolonged  indefinitely,  others  are  made  at  a 
single  impulse.  Following  out  these  ideas,  we  will  increase 
the  rapidity  of  the  second  until  they  can  be  struck  with  all 
the  suddenness  of  the  report  of  a  pistol,  and  one  after  an- 
other so  rapidly  that  the  ear  can  scarcely  catch  the  distinc- 
tion between  them.  This  will  enable  us  to  avoid  drawling, 
and  help  us  to  speak  with  rapidity  when  we  desire  it,  with- 
out falling  into  indistinctness.  We  next  learn  to  prolong 
the  other  vowels,  and  thus  to  make  them  carry  the  sounds 
of  words  to  the  greatest  distance.  The  full,  deliberate 
enunciation  of  a  word  is  audible  much  further  than  the 
most  violent  shout.  The  passenger  calling  to  the  ferry- 
man across  the  river  does  not  say  OVEE  in  one  single  violent 
impulse,  or,  if  he  does,  he  is  not  heard,  but  o-o-ver ;  and 
even  if  his  tone  is  gentle,  the  hills  ring  again,  and  the  ferry- 
man is  aroused.  Let  this  principle  be  brought  into  use  in 
public  speaking,  and  soon  no  hall  will  be  too  large  for  the 
compass  of  the  voice. 

The  different  extensions  of  sounds,  as  well  as  their  pitch 
on  the  musical  scale,  and  variations  of  force  in  enunciation, 
constitute  the  perspective  of  the  art  of  oratory,  and  give  it 


56  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 

an  agreeable  variety,  like  the  mingling  of  light  and  shade  in 
a  well-executed  picture.  A  dull,  dead  uniformity,  in  which 
each  word  is  uttered  on  the  same  key,  with  the  same 
degree  of  force,  and  each  sound  enunciated  with  the  same 
rapidity,  would  be  utterly  unbearable ;  while  a  perpetual 
variety,  reflecting  in  each  rise  and  fall,  each  storm  and  calm 
of  sound,  the  living  thought  within,  is  the  perfection  toward 
which  we  must  strive. 

Little  can  be  done  in  training  the  voice  beyond  these  ele- 
mentary exercises.  The  expression  in  the  moment  of  speech 
may  safely  be  left  to  the  impulse  of  nature.  Supply  the 
capability  by  previous  discipline,  then  leave  passion  to  clothe 
itself  in  the  most  natural  forms.  We  believe  there  is  such 
a  connection  between  the  emotions  of  the  mind  and  the  dif- 
ferent tones  of  voice,  that  emphasis,  inflection  and  intona- 
tion need  not  be  taught.  They  will  well  up  from  the  heart 
itself.  Reading  may  require  more  teaching,  for  its  very 
nature  is  artificial ;  and  it  behoves  those  who  read  their 
sermons  to  study  hard  to  supply  the  want  of  emotion  and 
naturalness  by  the  resources  of  elocution.  But  the  only 
effect  of  rules  upon  the  speaker,  so  far  as  he  heeds  them  at 
all,  is  to  make  him  a  cold  and  lifeless  machine.  The  child 
that  is  burnt  needs  no  instruction  to  find  the  right  tone  to 
express  its  pain,  so  that  every  one  who  hears  it  knows  that 
it  is  suffering.  It  strikes  the  key-note  of  joy  and  every 
other  emotion  with  equal  certainty.  Let  nature  but  have 
her  way,  untrammeled  by  art,  and  every  feeling  that  arises 
will  mold  the  voice  to  its  will,  and  every  heart  will 
recognize  and  respond  to  the  sound.  We  may  in  this  way 
miss  the  so-called  "brilliancy"  of  theatric  clap-trap,  but 
our  voices  will  have  that  "  touch  of  nature  that  makes 
tiie  whoie  world  kin." 

Something  may  be  done  by  observing  the  world  closely 
and  thus  becoming  more  deeply  permeated  by  that  at- 
mosphere of  sympathy  and  passion  that  wraps  all  men 
into  one  family,  and  forms  a  medium  of  communication 
deeper  and  more  wide-spread  than  any  language  of  earth. 


CULTIVATION.  57 

It  is  also  profitable  to  listen  to  the  great  orators  who  have 
mastered  the  mysteries  of  speech,  not  for  the  purpose  of 
imitating  them,  but  that  we  may  appreciate  better  what 
true  excellence  is.  Yet  it  is  hurtful  to  confine  our  attention 
too  long  to  one  model,  for  excellence  is  many-sided,  and  if 
we  view  only  one  of  its  phases,  we  are  apt  to  fall  into  slavish 
imitation — the  greatest  of  all  vices.  We  avoid  this  by 
looking  upon  many  examples,  and  making  use  of  them  only 
to  elevate  our  own  ideal.  Then,  without  a  conscious  effort 
to  reproduce  anything  wre  have  heard,  we  will  be  urged  to 
greater  exertions,  and  the  whole  level  of  our  attainments 
raised. 

There  are  abundant  faults  to  mar  the  freedom  of  nature ; 
and  the  speaker  who  would  be  truly  natural  must  watch 
vigilantly  for  them,  and,  when  found,  exterminate  them 
without  mercy.  The  sing-song  tone,  the  scream,  the  lisp, 
the  gutteral  and  tremulous  tones,  must  be  weeded  out  as 
they  come  to  the  surface ;  and  if  the  preacher's  own  egotism 
is  too  great  to  see  them,  or  his  taste  not  pure  enough,  some 
friend  ought  to  point  them  out  for  him.  At  the  bar,  or  in 
political  life,  the  keen  shaft  of  ridicule  destroys  such  things 
in  those  who  are  not  incorrigible ;  but  in  the  pulpit  they 
are  too  often  suffered  to  run  riot  because  the  sacred  nature 
of  its  themes  prohibits  ridicule,  and  causes  every  one  to  en- 
dure in  silence. 

But  there  is  one  fault  that  over-tops  all  others,  and  con- 
stitutes a  crying  sin  and  an  abomination  before  the  Lord. 
Would  that  every  hearer  who  suffers  by  it  had  the  courage 
to  go  to  his  minister  and  tell  him  of  the  torture  he  inflicts. 
He  could  not  long  endure  such  an  overwhelming  fire  brought 
to  bear  on  him.  It  is  what  is  sometimes  designated  as  the 
"  solemn  or  holy  tone."  It  prevails  to  an  alarming  extent. 
Men  who,  out  of  the  pulpit,  are  varied  and  lively  in  their 
conversation,  no  sooner  enter  it  than  it  seems  as  if  some 
evil  spirit  had  taken  possession  of  them  and  enthroned  itself 
in  their  voice,  which  at  once  sinks  into  a  measured,  or  rather 
measureless  drawl,  with  each  word  sloping  down  a  precipice 


58  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 

of  falling  inflections.  It  conceals  ideas  as  perfectly  as  ever 
Talleyrand  did ;  for  surely  no  idea,  even  of  living  light,  could 
penetrate  through  such  a  veil.  Men  who  thus  neutralize 
their  talents  and  contribute  to  render  religion  distasteful, 
will  surely  have  to  answer  for  it  at  the  great  day  of  account. 
Let  our  style  in  the  pulpit  be  simple,  earnest  and  manly. 
Let  each  emotion  clothe  itself  in  its  own  language  and  tones, 
and  then  we  will  be  above  all  rules,  and  all  censure  too,  for 
we  will  be  under  the  infallible  guidance  of  nature  and  the 
Spirit  of  God. 

Should  we  use  a  conversational  tone  in  speaking  ?  This 
question  has  often  been  discussed,  and  although  there  is  a 
great  difference  of  opinion,  yet  it  seems  to  admit  of  satis- 
factory answer.  The  language  of  conversation  is  the  lan- 
guage of  nature,  and  therefore  it  should  be  the  basis  of 
speech.  The  same  intonations  that  are  used  in  it  should  be 
employed  in  every  branch  of  oratory.  But  the  manner  of 
conversation  is  not  always  the  same.  The  man  who  talks 
with  a  friend  across  a  river  would  not  use  the  same  tones  as 
if  he  held  that  friend  by  the  hand.  And  if  a  man  is  speak- 
ing to  a  number  at  once,  the  very  need  ot  being  heard  will 
cause  him  to  speak  somewhat  louder  than  in  addressing  a 
single  person.  With  this  exception,  it  might  be  safely  laid 
down  as  a  rule  that  a  speech  should  be  commenced  in  the 
same  manner  as  we  would  speak  to  an  individual.  But  should 
it  be  continued  in  that  way  ?  The  oratund  tone  is  calculated 
to  make  a  deeper  impression  than  a  higher  key,  or  a  less 
degree  of  force.  But  there  need  be  no  solicitude  about  its 
employment.  Begin  as  a  man  who  is  talking  to  his  friends 
upon  an  interesting  subject  would  do,  and  then,  as  the 
interest  deepens,  throw  away  all  restraint  of  voice.  Let  it 
follow  passion,  and  it  will  naturally  fall  into  the  way  that 
will  best  express  that  passion.  It  will  deepen  into  the 
thunder-roar  when  that  is  needed,  and  will  become  soft  and 
pathetic  at  the  right  time. 

But  beware  of  thinking  that  you  must  be  loud,  in  order 
to  be  impressive.  Nothing  is  more  disgusting  than  that 


CULTIVATION.  59 

interminable  roar,  beginning  with  a  shout  and  continuing  all 
through  the  sermon.  It  is  worse  than  monotony  itself.  The 
very  loudness  of  voice  that,  applied  at  the  right  place,  would 
be  overpowering,  loses  all  power,  and  becomes  as  wearisome 
as  the  ceaseless  lashing  of  ocean  waves  to  the  storm-tost 
mariner.  Strive  to  have  something  to  say,  keep  the  fires 
of  passion  burning  in  your  own  soul,  and  the  voice,  which 
has  previously  been  diligently  cultivated,  will  not  fail  in 
what  should  be  its  only  office — the  bringing  of  your  thoughts 
into  contact  with  the  souls  of  others. 

Books  on  oratory  properly  devote  much  space  to  the  con- 
sideration of  gesture,  or  the  eye  needs  to  be  addressed 
and  pleased  as  well  as  the  ear.  But  we  doubt  whether  the 
marking  out  of  gestures  to  be  imitated  is  calculated  to  do 
much  good.  The  principal  use  of  training  seems  to  be, 
first,  to  overcome  the  backwardness  that  might  freeze  both 
speaker  and  congregation  ;  and  second,  to  discard  awkward 
and  repulsive  movements.  The  first  can  be  accomplished  by 
a  firm  resolution,  and  is  worthy  of  it.  We  have  all  seen  most 
eloquent  men  who  did  not  move  at  all,  or  who  moved  very 
slightly  in  the  course  of  their  address,  but  never  without 
feeling  that  the  want  of  gesticulation  detracted  just  so  much 
from  their  power.  It  is  unnatural  to  speak  standing  still, 
and  none  but  a  lazy,  sick,  or  bashful  man  will  do  it.  Yet 
many  who  do  not  hesitate  to  make  their  voices  reverberate 
to  the  roof,  will  fear  to  move  even  a  finger.  Let  this  tim- 
idity be  thrown  off.  Even  an  ungraceful  gesture  is  better 
than  none  at  all. 

But  after  the  first  fear  has  been  overcome,  and  the  speaker 
has  learned  to  use  his  hands,  he  next  needs  to  guard  against 
bad  habits.  If  anything  is  truly  natural,  it  will  be  beauti- 
ful ;  but  we  are  so  much  corrupted  by  early  example  that  it 
is  hard  to  find  what  nature  is.  There  is  hardly  a  public 
speaker  who  does  not,  at  some  time,  fall  into  habits  that  are 
unsightly  or  ridiculous.  The  difference  in  this  respect  is, 
that  some  retain  all  the  faults  they  once  get,  hanging  and 
accumulating  around  them ;  while  others,  from  the  warning 


60  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 

of  friends  or  their  own  observation,  discover  their  errors, 
and  cast  them  off. 

A  good  method  of  testing  our  own  manner,  from  which  we 
should  not  be  deterred  by  prejudice,  is  by  speaking  before  'a 
mirror.  There  is  reason  for  the  common  ridicule  thrown 
upon  this  practice,  if  we  recite  our  sermons  for  the  purpose  of 
marking  the  proper  points  of  gesture,  and  of  noting  where  to 
start,  and  frown,  and  wave  the  arm,  so  as  to  make  the  whole 
mere  acting.  But  what  we  advise  is  to  speak  before  the 
glass  in  as  earnest  and  impassioned  a  manner  as  we  can 
command,  not  for  practice  on  the  subjects  we  are  to  discuss, 
but  that  we  may  "  see  ourselves  as  others  see  us."  In 
ordinary  speaking  we  can  hear  our  own  voice,  and  thus  be- 
come sensible  of  any  audible  errors  that  we  may  fall  into  ; 
but  we  need  the  glass  to  show  us  how  we  look,  and  to  makp 
us  see  any  improper  movement  that  we  may  have  uncon- 
sciously contracted.  We  do  not  advise  the  recital  of  a  ser- 
mon before  the  glass.  There  is  something  cold  and  irrev- 
erent in  the  very  idea.  But  the  same  objection  does  not 
apply  to  ordinary  declamation. 

By  these  two  processes — pressing  out  into  action  under 
the  impulse  of  deep  feeling,  as  strongly  and  freely  as  pos- 
sible, and  by  lopping  off  everything  that  is  not  graceful 
and  effective,  we  will  soon  attain  a  good  style  of  gesture. 
All  mechanical  imitation,  all  observance  of  artificial  rules, 
and  especially  all  attempts  to  make  the  gesture  descriptive, 
such  as  pointing  toward  the  object  alluded  to,  placing  the 
hand  on  the  heart  to  express  emotion,  etc.,  will  do  more 
harm  than  good.  The  best  gesticulation  is  entirely  uncon- 
scious. 

Freqiiently  the  speed  or  slowness  of  the  gesture  reveals 
more  emotion  than  its  direction  or  form.  The  stroke,  when 
it  falls  upon  a  particular  word,  aids  to  make  it  emphatic, 
even  when  there  is  no  observable  connection  between  the 
kind  of  movement  made  and  the  sentiment  uttered.  Let 
the  mind,  intent  on  its  subject,  take  full  possession  of  the 
whole  body,  as  a  medium  of  expression,  and  every  action 


CULTIVATION.  61 

will  correspond  with  tone  and  word,  and  the  soul  of  the 
hearer  be  reached  alike  through  eye  and  ear. 

We  have  already  spoken  of  boldness  as  an  indispensable 
requisite  for  an  extempore  speaker.  But  more  is  needed 
than  the  courage  that  leads  us  to  encounter  the  perils  of 
speech.  Some  speakers  master  their  fears  sufficiently  to 
begin,  yet  continue  to  experience  a  nervous  dread  which 
prevents  the  free  use  of  their  faculties.  This  clinging  tim- 
idity may  hang  around  an  orator,  and  impede  his  nights  of 
eloquence  as  effectually  as  an  iron  fetter  would  an  eagle  on 
the  wing.  The  speaker  must  confide  in  his  own  powers, 
and  be  willing  to  trust  to  their  guidance. 

It  is  not  necessary  that  he  should  have  this  confidence 
previous  to  speaking,  for  it  is  then  very  difficult  to  exercise 
it,  and  if  possessed,  it  may  assume  the  appearance  of  ego- 
tism and  boastfulness.  Many  a  man  begins  to  speak  while 
trembling  in  every  limb,  but  soon  becomes  inspired  with  his 
theme  and  forgets  all  anxiety.  But  if  his  fear  be  greater 
than  this,  and  keep  him  in  perpetual  terror,  it  will  destroy 
liberty  and  eloquence.  A  man  under  such  an  influence 
loses  his  self-possession,  becomes  confused,  all  interest  evapo- 
rates from  his  most  carefully-prepared  thoughts,  and  he 
finally  sits  down,  convinced  that  his  effort  was  a  failure, 
while,  perhaps,  he  had  in  his  brain  the  necessary  power  and 
material  to  sway  the  assembly  at  will.  Such  a  one  must 
learn  to  fear  less,  or  seek  a  higher  support  under  his  trials. 

There  is  no  remedy  more  effectual  than  to  do  all  our 
work  under  the  immediate  pressure  of  duty.  If  we  speak 
for  self-glory,  the  frowns  or  approval  of  the  audience  become 
a  matter  of  vast  importance  to  us,  and  if  we  fail,  we  are 
deeply  mortified  and  bewail  our  foolishness  in  exposing  our- 
selves to  such  risks.  On  the  contrary,  if  we  speak  from  a 
sense  of  duty,  if  we  hear  the  cry,  "  woe  is  me  if  I  preach 
not  the  Gospel,"  sounding  in  our  ears,  it  is  no  longer  a  mat- 
ter of  choice,  and  we  go  forward,  even  trembling,  to  obey 
the  imperative  command.  Our  mind  is  fixed  on  our  theme, 
and  the  applause  of  the  multitude  becomes  of  small  moment 


62  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 

to  us  except  as  it  is  the  echo  of  God's  approval.  We  feel 
that  we  are  his  workmen,  and  believe  that  he  will  sustain 
us.  Men  have  thus  been  forward  in  the  Christian  ministry 
who  would  otherwise  never  have  faced  the  dangers  and 
exposures  of  public  speaking.  They  were  driven  to  it,  and 
therefore  threw  themselves  bravely  into  it,  and  often  at- 
tained the  highest  eminence. 

A  want  of  proper  confidence  is  one  great  reason  why  so 
many  with  superior  talents  for  off-hand  speaking  seek  refuge 
in  their  notes.  They  try,  and  fail.  Instead  of  copying  the 
school-boy  motto  "  try,  try  again,"  and  thus  reaping  the 
fruition  of  their  hopes,  they  give  up — conclude  that  they 
have  no  talents  for  the  work,  and  sink  to  mediocrity  and 
tameness,  when  they  might  have  been  brilliant  in  the  field 
of  true  oratory. 

The  possession  of  confidence  while  speaking  secures  respect 
and  deference.  The  congregation  can  pardon  timidity  at 
the  beginning,  for  then  their  minds  are  fixed  on  the  speaker, 
and  his  shrinking  seems  to  be  but  a  graceful  exhibition  of 
modesty  and  good  sense.  But  after  he  has  once  begun, 
their  minds  are  on  the  subject,  and  they  associate  him  with 
it.  If  he  is  dignified,  respectful  and  confident,  they  listen 
attentively,  and  feel  the  weight  of  his  words.  This  is  far 
different  from  bluster  and  bravado,  which  always  injure  the 
cause  they  advocate,  and  produce  a  feeling  of  disgust  toward 
the  offender.  The  first  seems  to  arise  from  a  sense  of  the 
dignity  of  the  subject ;  the  second  from  an  opinion  of  per- 
sonal importance — an  opinion  no  speaker  has  a  right  to  enter- 
tain when  before  an  audience,  for,  in  the  very  act  of  speak- 
ing to  them,  he  constitutes  them  his  judges.  He  may  have 
confidence  in  his  own  power  to  present  the  subject  faithfully, 
and  he  will  speak  with  only  the  more  force  and  certainty  if 
he  is  well  assured  of  that,  but  he  must  not  let  it  be  seen  that 
he  is  thinking  of  himself,  or  trying  to  exhibit  his  owii  genius. 

A  speaker  needs  confidence  that  he  may  avail  himself  of 
the  suggestions  of  the  moment.  Some  of  the  best  thoughts 
he  will  ever  have,  will  be  out  of  the  line  of  his  preparation, 


CULTIVATION.  63 

and  will  occur  at  a  moment  when  there  is  no  time  for  him 
to  weigh  them.  He  must  reject  them  immediately  or  begin 
to  follow,  not  knowing  whither  they  lead,  and  this  not  in 
thought  alone,  but  in  audible  words,  with  the  risk  that  they 
may  bring  him  into  some  ridiculous  absurdity.  He  cannot 
even  stop  to  glance  ahead,  for  the  least  hesitation  will  break 
the  spell  he  may  have  woven  around  his  hearers,  while  if  he 
rejects  the  self-offered  idea,  he  may  lose  a  genuine  inspira- 
tion. A  quick  searching  glance,  that  will  allow  no  time  for 
his  own  feelings  or  those  of  his  hearers  to  cool,  is  all  that 
he  can  give,  and  it  is  necessary  in  that  time  to  decide  whether 
to  reject  the  thought,  or  follow  it  with  the  same  assurance 
as  if  the  end  were  clearly  in  view.  It  requires  some  bold- 
ness to  do  this,  and  yet  every  speaker  knows  that  his  very 
highest  efforts — thoughts  that  have  moved  his  hearers  like 
leaves  before  the  wind — have  been  of  this  character. 

It  also  requires  some  confidence  to  begin  a  sentence,  even 
when  the  idea  is  plain,  without  knowing  how  it  is  to  be 
framed  or  where  it  will  end.  This  difficulty  is  experienced 
very  often  in  speech  even  by  those  who  are  most  fluent.  A 
man  may  learn  to  cast  sentences  very  rapidly,  yet  it  will  take 
some  time  for  them  to  pass  through  his  mind,  and  when  he 
has  finished  one,  the  next  idea  may  not  have  fully  condensed 
itself  into  words.  To  begin,  then,  with  this  uncertainty  and 
go  on  without  letting  the  people  see  any  hesitation,  demands 
a  good  deal  of  confidence  in  one's  power  of  commanding 
words  and  forming  sentences.  Yet  a  bold  and  confident 
speaker  feels  no  uneasiness  on  such  occasions.  Sometimes 
he  will  prolong  a  pause  while  he  is  thinking  of  the  word  he 
wants,  and  hazardous  as  this  appears,  it  is  really  safe,  for 
the  mind  is  so  active  when  in  the  complete  possession  of  its 
powers  that,  if  necessary,  as  it  seldom  is,  something  extra- 
neous can  easily  be  thrown  in,  that  will  fill  up  the  time  until 
the  right  term  and  the  right  construction  are  found. 

This  necessary  confidence  can  be  cultivated  by  striving  to 
exercise  it,  and  by  assuming  its  appearance  where  the  reality 
is  not.  Let  a  person  make  up  his  mind  that  he  will  become 


64  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 

an  extempore  speaker,  and  patiently  endure  all  failures  and 
mistakes  that  follow,  and  he  will  thus  avoid  the  wavering 
and  shrinking,  and  questioning  in  his  own  mind  that  other- 
wise distress  him  and  paralyze  his  powers.  If  he  fail, 
he  will  be  stimulated  to  a  stronger  and  more  protracted 
effort.  If  he  succeed,  that  will  be  an  argument  upon  which 
to  base  future  confidence,  and  thus,  whatever  is  the  result, 
he  is  forwarded  on  his  course. 

And  in  regard  to  the  difficulty  of  sentence-casting,  he  will 
make  his  way  through  so  many  perplexities  of  that  kind, 
that  the  only  danger  will  be  that  of  becoming  careless,  and 
constructing  too  many  sentences  without  unity  or  polish. 
He  will  acquire  by  long  experience  so  much  knowledge  of 
the  working  of  his  own  thoughts,  as  to  be  able  to  tell  at  a 
glance  what  he  ought  to  reject,  and  what  accept,  of  the  un- 
bidden ideas  that  present  themselves.  He  will  be  ready  to 
seize  every  new  thought,  even  if  it  be  outside  of  his  prepa- 
ration, and,  if  worthy,  give  it  instant  expression  ;  and  if  not, 
dismiss  it  at  once  and  continue  unchecked  along  his  intended 
route. 

There  is  only  one  direction  that  we  can  give  for  the  acqui- 
sition of  the  confidence  that  is  respectful  and  self-assured, 
and  yet  not  forward  nor  obtrusive.  Be  fully  persuaded  as 
to  what  is  best  for  you,  and  make  up  your  mind  to  take  the 
risks  as  well  as  the  advantages  of  extempore  speaking. 
Then  persevere  until  all  obstacles  are  overcome. 

We  have  thus  glanced  at  a  few  of  the  more  important 
acquired  qualities  necessary  for  public  speaking.  These  do 
not  cover  the  whole  field,  for  to  speak  aright  requires  all  the 
faculties  of  the  mind  in  the  highest  state  of  cultivation. 
There  is  no  mental  power  that  may  not  contribute  to  the 
orator's  success.  The  whole  limits  of  possible  education  are 
comprised  in  two  great  branches :  the  one  relating  to  the 
reception,  and  the  other  to  the  communication  of  knowl- 
edge. The  perfect  combination  of  these  is  the  ideal  of  ex- 
cellence— an  ideal  so  high  that  it  can  only  be  aspired  to. 
All  knowledge  is  of  value  to  the  orator.  He  may  not  have 


CULTIVATION.  05 

occasion  to  use  it  directly  in  his  speeches,  but  it  will  always 
be  at  hand  to  select  from,  and  give  his  views  additional 
breadth  and  scope.  If  his  materials  are  few  he  must  take, 
not  what  is  best,  but  what  he  has.  If  a  wide  extent  of  knowl- 
edge is  open  before  him,  the  chances  are  that  he  will  find 
exactly  what  is  needed  for  his  purpose. 

The  improvement  of  the  power  to  communicate  knowledge 
is,  if  possible,  still  more  important.  A  great  part  of  the 
value  even  of  a  diamond  depends  upon  its  setting  and  polish, 
and  the  richest  and  most  glowing  thoughts  may  fail  to  reach 
the  heart  or  charm  the  intellect,  unless  they  are  cast  into  the 
proper  form,  and  given  external  beauty. 

Let  the  man,  then,  who  would  speak  well  not  fear  to  know 
too  much.  He  cannot  be  great  at  once.  He  must  build  for 
future  years.  If  he  wish  a  sudden  and  local  celebrity  that 
will  never  increase,  but  molder  away,  even  in  his  own  life- 
time, he  could,  perhaps,  attain  it  in  another  way.  He  might 
learn  a  few  of  the  externals  of  elocution,  and  then,  with 
great  care,  or  by  the  free  use  of  the  material  of  others, 
prepare  some  finely-worded  discourses,  and  read  or  recite 
them  as  often  as  he  can  find  a  new  audience.  It  is  true  that 
by  this  means  his  success  will  probably  not  be  as  great  as 
he  would  wish,  but  he  can  be  sure  that  what  he  achieves  will 
be  sufficiently  evanescent.  He  will  not  grow  up  to  the 
measure  of  greatness,  but  become  daily  more  dwarfed  and 
stereotyped  in  intellect.  But  on  the  other  hand,  let  him 
"  intermeddle  with  all  knowledge,"  and  make  his  means  of 
communicating  what  he  thus  gathers  as  perfect  as  possible, 
and  then  talk  to  the  people  out  of  the  fullness  of  his  treas- 
ures, and  if  no  sudden  and  empty  acclaim  should  greet  him, 
he  will  be  weighty  and  influential  from  the  first,  and  each 
year  that  passes  will  bring  him  added  power.  The  aim  of 
the  sacred  orator  should  be  the  full  and  harmonious  develop- 
ment of  all  the  faculties  that  God  has  given  him,  and  their 
consecration  to  his  great  work. 


PART  II. 


A     SERMON. 


CHAPTER  L 

THE    FOUNDATION  — •  SUBJECT  — >  OBJECT  —  TEXT. 

WE  have  thus  far  discussed  the  subject  of  preliminary 
training,  and  have  endeavored  to  show  what  natural  quali- 
ties the  preacher  must  possess,  and  how  these  can  be  improved 
by  diligent  cultivation.  The  importance  of  a  wide  scope  of 
knowledge,  and  especially  of  that  which  bears  upon  oratory; 
of  understanding  and  having  some  command  of  the  powers 
of  language  ;  of  having  a  personal  experience  of  Christ's 
pardoning  love,  and  a  heart  filled  with  desire  for  the  salva- 
tion of  our  fellow  men  ;  of  believing  that  God  has  called  us 
to  the  work  of  the  ministry  ;  has  already  been  pointed  out. 
When  a  man  finds  himself  in  possession  of  these,  and  is 
still  a  diligent  student,  growing  daily  in  grace,  he  is  pre- 
pared to  preach  the  Gospel  in  "  demonstration  of  the  spirit 
and  of  power."  He  is  then  ready  to  consider  the  methods 
by  which  all  his  gifts  and  acquirements  may  be  made  avail- 
able, and  wielded  with  mightiest  effect  in, the  service  of  his 
Master. 

Some  of  the  directions  given  in  this  and  succeeding  chap- 
ters are  of  universal  application,  while  others  are  to  be  re- 
garded only  as  suggestions,  to  be  modified  and  changed 
according  to  individual  taste,  or  particular  circumstances. 

A  plan  is  necessary  to  every  sermon.  A  rude  mass  of 
brick,  lumber,  mortar  and  iron,  thrown  together  as  the  ma- 
terials chance  to  be  furnished,  does  not  constitute  a  house, 
and  is  worthless  until  each  is  built  into  its  appropriate  place, 
in  obedience  to  some  intelligent  design.  A  sermon  must  be 


70  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKIXH. 

constructed  in  a  similar  manner.  It  may  contain  much  that 
is  good,  or  useful,  or  striking,  and  be  replete  with  sparkling 
imagery,  and  full  of  ideas  that  will  command  the  attention 
of  the  audience,  and  yet  completely  fail.  The  only  safe 
method  is  to  have  a  well-defined  plan  marked  out  from  be- 
ginning to  end,  and  to  work  according  to  it. 

It  is  always  better  to  have  this  plan  previously  constructed. 
Sometimes  when  we  speak  on  a  subject  we  have  often  thought 
over,  its  whole  outline  will  flash  upon  us  in  a  moment,  and 
we  will  speak  as  well  as  if  we  had  employed  months  in  pre- 
paration. But  such  cases  are  rare  exceptions.  The  man 
who  attempts,  on  the  spur  of  the  moment,  to  arrange  his 
facts,  draw  his  inferences,  and  enforce  his  opinions,  will  find 
the  task  very  difficult,  even  if  his  memory  promptly  fur- 
nishes all  the  necessary  materials. 

Every  discourse,  of  whatever  character,  should  have  a  sub- 
ject and  an  object.  A  sermon  requires  a  text  also,  and  these 
three  constitute  the  foundation  upon  which  it  is  built.  We 
will  consider  them  separately. 

A  good  plan  cannot  be  constructed  without  an  object  in 
view.  Why  is  it  that  at  a  particular  time  a  congregation 
assembles,  and  sits  silent  while  a  man  addresses  them  ? 
What  is  his  motive  in  standing  up  before  them  and  asking 
their  attention  ?  Many  of  the  people  may  have  been  drawn 
together  by  the  lightest  influences,  but  the  minister,  at  least, 
should  be  actuated  by  a  noble  purpose.  If  he  has  a  clear 
aim  before  him,  it  will  tend  powerfully  to  give  unity  and 
consistency  to  his  discourse,  and  prevent  him  from  falling 
into  endless  digressions.  It  will  bind  all  detached  parts 
together,  and  infuse  a  common  life  through  the  whole  mass. 
We  cannot  be  too  careful  in  the  selection  of  such  a  ruling 
object,  for  it  will  affect  the  whole  superstructure. 

Our  purposes  should  not  be  too  general.  It  is  not  enough 
that  we  should  wish  to  do  good.  Probably  no  minister  ever 
preaches  without  that  general  desire.  But  the  important 
question  is,  "  What  special  good  do  I  hope  to  accomplish  by 
this  sermon  ?"  When  he  has  decided  this,  he  will  then  be 


THE   FOUNDATION.  71 

prepared  to  adapt  his  means  to  the  end  proposed,  and  the 
whole  discourse  will  acquire  a  definiteness  and  precision  that 
would  never  otherwise  have  belonged  to  it.  The  more  we 
sub-divide  our  objects,  the  more  will  this  precision  be  in- 
creased, although  there  is  a  limit  beyond  which  it  would  be 
at  the  expense  of  other  qualities.  If  we  desire  the  salvation 
of  souls,  it  is  well,  and  most  powerful  sermons  have  been 
preached  with  that  object  in  view.  But  if  we  narrow  our 
immediate  aim,  and  keep  in  view  only  one  of  the  steps  by 
which  the  soul  advances  to  God,  it  will  give  our  discourse  a 
keener  edge,  and  we  can  plead  with  those  who  have  not  yet 
taken  that  step  with  more  prospect  of  immediate  success, 
than  if  we  at  once  placed  the  whole  journey  before  them. 
For  example,  many  sermons  may  be  preached  with  "  repent- 
ance "  as  the  central  object,  and  this  duty  enforced  by  various 
motives  and  innumerable  arguments.  We  may  show  that 
it  is  a  duty,  that  man  is  lost  without  it,  that  Jesus  calls  him 
to  it,  that  God  assists,  that  salvation  follows  it,  etc. 

Our  objects  usually  have  reference  to  the  action  of  those 
who  hear  us,  and  the  more  fully  that  action  is  understood, 
and  the  more  earnest  our  desire  to  produce  it,  the  greater 
our  persuasive  power  will  be.  If  we  do  not  exactly  know 
what  we  wish  to  accomplish,  there  is  very  little  probability 
that  our  audience  will  interpret  our  thoughts  for  us.  We 
may,  it  is  true,  labor  to  convince  the  judgment  of  our  hear- 
ers, and  make  them  understand  truth  more  clearly  than 
before,  but  this  is  usually  because  of  the  influence  thus  ex- 
erted on  their  actions. 

The  objects  that  should  govern  our  sermons  are  compara- 
tively few,  and  ought  to  be  selected  with  great  care.  Much 
of  our  success  depends  on  having  the  right  one  of  these 
before  us  at  the  right  time  ;  for  if  we  aim  at  that  which  is 
unattainable,  we  lose  our  effort.  If  we  preach  sanctification 
to  a  congregation  of  unawakened  sinners,  no  power  of  treat- 
ment can  redeem  the  sermon  from  the  cardinal  defect  of 
inappropriateness.  If  we  preach  against  errors  which  no 
one  of  our  hearers  entertains,  our  logic  is  lost,  even  if  the 


72  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 

very  errors  we  battle  against  are  not  suggested.  Let  us 
carefully  note  the  state  of  our  audience,  and  select  for  our 
object  that  which  ought  to  be  accomplished. 

There  is  a  difference  between  the  subject  of  a  discourse 
and  its  object ;  the  latter  is  the  motive  that  impels  us  to 
speak,  while  the  former  is  what  we  speak  about.  It  is  not 
uncommon  for  ministers  to  have  a  subject  without  any  very 
distinct  object.  Their  engagements  require  them  to  speak, 
and  a  subject  is  a  necessity.  That  which  can  be  treated 
most  easily  is  taken,  and  all  the  ideas  they  possess,  or  can 
collect  about  it,  are  given  forth,  and  the  matter  left.  Until 
such  persons  grow  in  earnest,  and  really  desire  to  accomplish 
something,  they  cannot  advance  the  cause  of  God. 

The  object  of  a  sermon  is  the  soul,  while  the  subject  is 
only  the  body  ;  or,  we  may  say,  the  one  is  the  end,  and  the 
other  the  means  by  which  it  is  accomplished.  After  the 
object  is  fixed  the  subject  can  lu>  chosen  to  much  better 
advantage  ;  for  instance,  if  it  be  our  object  to  lead  the  peni- 
tent to  the  Cross,  we  may  select  any  of  the  themes  con- 
nected with  the  crucifixion  and  dying  love  of  Christ  ;  we 
may  show  the  sinner  his  inability  to  fulfill  the  requirements 
of  the  law,  and  that  he  needs  an  atoning  sacrifice  to  save 
him  from  its  penalty  ;  we  may  show  that  the  salvation  pur- 
chased is  full  and  free.  Many  other  branches  of  the  same 
great  topic  will  be  found  suitable  for  the  purpose  in  view. 

This  order  of  selection  may  sometimes  be  reversed  to  good 
advantage.  When  a  minister  is  stationed  with  a  certain 
congregation,  there  are  many  objects  he  wishes  to  accom- 
plish, and  often  no  strong  reason  for  preferring  one  in  the 
order  of  time  to  another.  It  will  then  be  well  for  him  to 
take  that  subject  which  may  impress  him,  and  bend  his  mind 
toward  an  object  he  can  enforce  most  powerfully  through  it. 

On  other  occasions  there  is  a  particular  end  to  be  attained, 
which  is  for  the  time  all-important,  and  which  thus  furnishes 
the  proper  object.  Nothing  then  remains  but  for  the  preacher 
to  choose  a  subject  through  which  he  can  work  to  the  best 
advantage. 


THE   FOUNDATION.  73 

This  is  one  great  advantage  the  Methodists  have  in  pro- 
tracted meetings.  An  object  is  always  in  view,  and  the 
congregation  expect  it  to  be  pressed  home  with  power.  No 
plea  of  general  instruction  will  then  save  a  sermon  from  being 
thought  worthless,  if  it  does  not  produce  an  immediate  result. 
And  even  the  much  calumniated  "  mourners'  bench  "  con- 
tributes most  powerfully  to  the  same  result.  There  is 
something  proposed  which  the  congregation  can  see,  and 
through  it  judge  of  the  preacher's  success  or  failure.  An 
outward  act  is  urged  upon  the  unbelieving  portion  of  the 
audience,  by  which  they  signify  that  they  yield  to  the  power 
of  the  Gospel ;  and  the  very  fact  of  having  that  before  him 
as  an  immediate,  though  not  an  ultimate  aim,  will  stimulate 
the  preacher's  zeal,  and  cause  him  to  put  forth  every  possi- 
ble exertion. 

After  all,  the  order  in  which  subject  and  object  are  selected 
is  not  very  material.  It  is  enough  that  the  preacher  has  a 
subject  that  he  understands,  and  an  object  that  warms  his 
heart  and  enlists  all  his  powers.  Then  he  can  preach,  not 
as  if  dealing  with  abstractions,  but  as  one  who  has  a  living 
mission  to  perform. 

Every  subject  we  treat  should  be  complete  in  itself,  and 
rounded  off  from  everything  else.  Its  boundaries  should  be 
run  with  such  precision  as  not  to  include  anything  but  what 
properly  belongs  to  it.  It  is  a  common  but  grievous  fault 
to  have  the  same  cast  of  ideas  flowing  round  every  text  that 
may  be  preached  from.  There  are  few  things  in  the  universe 
that  have  not  some  relation  to  everything  else,  and  if  our 
topics  are  not  very  strictly  bounded,  we  will  fall  into  the 
vice  of  perpetual  repetition.  Thus,  in  a  book  of  sermon 
sketches  we  have  examined,  nearly  every  one  begins  by 
proving  that  man  is  a  fallen  creature,  and  needs  the  helps  or 
is  liable  to  the  ills  mentioned  afterward.  No  other  thought 
is  introduced  until  that  primal  point  is  settled.  This  doc- 
trine is  of  great  importance,  and  does  affect  all  man's  rela-* 
tions,  but  we  can  sometimes  take  it  for  granted,  without 
endangering  the  edifice  we  build  upon  it,  and  occasional 
4 


74  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 

silence  will  be  far  more  impressive  than  that  continual  itera- 
tion, which  may  even  induce  a  doubt  of  what  seems  to  need 
so  much  proof. 

Ministers  sometime  acquire  such  a  stereotyped  form  of 
thought  and  expression  that  what  they  say  in  one  sermon 
wall  be  sure  to  recur,  perhaps  in  a  modified  form,  in  all 
others.  This  kind  of  preaching  is  intolerable.  There  is  an 
end  to  the  patience  of  man.  He  tires  of  the  same  old  ideas, 
and  wishes  when  a  text  is  taken  that  it  may  bring  with  it  a 
new  sermon.  The  remedy  against  this  evil  is  to  give  each 
sermon  its  own  territory,  and  then  guard  rigidly  against 
trespass.  It  is  not  a  sufficient  excuse  for  the  minister  who 
preaches  continually  in  one  place,  that  what  he  says  has  a 
natural  connection  with  the  subject  in  hand,  but  it  must 
have  a  closer  connection  with  it,  than  with  any  other  he  may 
use.  By  observing  this  rule,  we  make  each  theme  the  solar 
centre  around  which  may  cluster  a  great  number  of  second- 
ary ideas,  all  of  which  naturally  belong  to  it,  and  are  undis- 
turbed by  satellites  from  other  systems. 

The  subjects  from  which  a  preacher  may  choose  are  innu- 
merable. The  Bible  is  an  inexhaustible  store-house.  Its 
histories,  precepts,  prophecies,  promises  and  threatenings, 
are  almost  endless.  Then  all  the  duties  of  human  life, 
and  especially  those  born  of  the  Christian  character;  the 
best  methods  of  making  our  way  to  the  end  of  our  journey ; 
the  hopes  after  which  we  follow  ;  the  dangers  that  beset  our 
path  ;  the  mighty  destinies  of  time  and  eternity,  are  a  fe\v 
of  the  themes  that  suggest  themselves,  and  afford  room 
enough  for  the  loftiest  talent,  during  all  the  time  that  man 
is  allowed  to  preach  on  earth.  If  we  would  search  carefully 
for  the  best  subjects,  and,  wrhen  found,  isolate  them  from  all 
others,  we  would  never  need  to  weary  the  people  by  the 
repetition  of  thoughts  and  ideas. 

While,  as  a  rule,  we  ought  to  shun  controversial  points, 
we  should  not  be  afraid  to  lay  hold  of  the  most  important 
subjects  that  are  revealed  to  man.  These  will  always  com- 
mand attention ;  heaven  and  hell,  judgment,  redemption. 


THE   FOUNDATION.  75 

faith,  the  fall,  and  all  those  great  doctrines  upon  which  the 
Christian  'religion  rests,  need  to  be  frequently  impressed  on 
the  people.  It  is  also  profitable  to  preach  serial  sermons  on 
great  subjects.  The  rise  of  the  Jewish  nation  and  economy 
would  afford  a  fine  field  for  instruction.  The  life  and  work 
of  Jesus  Christ  would  be  still  better.  This  latter  series 
might  consist  of  discourses  on  His  birth,  baptism,  tempta- 
tion, first  sermon,  His  teaching  in  general,  some  miracle  as 
a  type  of  all  others,  transfiguration,  last  coming  to  Jerusa- 
lem, Gethsemane,  betrayal  and  arrest,  trial,  crucifixion,  resur- 
rection, ascension  and  second  advent.  Many  other  subdi- 
visions might  be  made.  Such  linked  sermons,  covering  a 
wide  scope,  instruct  the  people  better  than  isolated  ones 
could,  and  afford  equal  opportunities  for  enforcing  all  Chris- 
tian lessons.  Yet  it  would  not  be  well  to  employ  them 
exclusively,  or  even  generally,  as  such  a  practice  would  tend 
to  wearisome  sameness. 

The  subject  must  be  well  defined.  It  may  be  of  a  general 
nature,  but  our  conception  of  it  should  be  so  clear  that 
we  always  know  just  what  we  are  speaking  about.  This 
is  more  necessary  in  an  extempore  speech  than  in  a  written 
one,  although  the  want  of  it  will  be  felt  severely  even  in  the 
latter.  A  strong,  vividly  defined  subject  will  give  unity  and 
life  to  a  whole  discourse,  and  often  leave  a  permanent  im- 
pression on  the  mind.  To  aid  in  securing  this,  it  will  be 
well  for  the  preacher,  when  he  has  chosen  a  subject,  to  re- 
duce it  to  its  simplest  form,  and  then  by  writing  it  as  a 
phrase  or  sentence,  stamp  it  on  the  mind,  and  let  it  ring  in 
every  word  that  is  spoken ;  that  is,  let  each  word  aid  in 
carrying  out  the  great  idea,  or  in  leading  to  the  desired  object, 
and  be  valued  only  so  far  as  it  does  this.  Those  intermin- 
able discourses,  that  seem  to  commence  anywhere  and  end 
nowhere,  may  be  called  sermons  by  courtesy,  but  they  are 
not  such  in  reality.  The  word  "  sermon "  signifies  "  a 
thrust,"  which  well  expresses  the  concentrativeness  and 
aggressiveness  that  should  distinguish  it,  and  which  no- 
thing but  a  well-defined  theme  can  give.  It  ought  not  to 


76  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 

glitter  with  detached  beauties,  like  the  starry  heavens,  but 
shine  with  the  single,  all-pervading  radiance  of  the  sun. 

This  unity  of  theme  and  treatment  is  not  easily  preserved. 
It  is  hard  to  see  in  the  mind's  eye  what  we  know  would 
please  and  delight  those  who  listen,  and  turn  away  and  leave 
it,  but  it  is  often  necessary  to  exercise  this  more  than  Spar- 
tan self-denial,  if  we  would  not  reduce  our  sermons  to  mere 
random  harangues.  Not  that  illustration  should  be  dis- 
carded, for  the  whole  realm  of  nature  may  be  pressed  into 
this  service,  and  a  good  illustration  in  the  right  place  is 
often  better  than  an  argument.  But  nothing,  whatever  its 
nature,  should  be  drawn  in,  unless  it  so  perfectly  coalesces 
with  the  parent  idea,  that  a  common  vitality  flows  through 
them.  If  this  is  the  case,  the  unity  will  be  unbroken, 
though  even  then  it  often  happens  that  the  idea  would  pro- 
duce a  better  effect  in  connection  with  another  theme,  and 
should  be  reserved  for  it. 

Usage  has  established  the  practice  of  employing  a  ]>. 
of  Scripture  as  the  basis  of  a  sermon.  This  is  of  great  ad- 
vantage to  the  minister,  for  it  gives  the  discourse  something 
of  divine  sanction,  and  makes  it  more  than  a  popular  addivss. 
Opinion  is  divided  as  to  whether  it  is  best  to  select  the  text, 
and  arrange  the  discourse  to  correspond  with  it,  or  reversing 
this  order,  to  compose  the  sermon  first,  and  thus  secure  the 
harmony  that  arises  from  having  no  disturbing  idea,  and  at 
the  last  moment  choose  a  text  of  Scripture  that  will  fit  it  as 
nearly  as  possible. 

No  doubt  the  comparative  advantages  of  these  methods 
will  be  to  a  great  degree  determined  by  the  occasions  on 
which  they  are  used.  When  a  subject  is  of  great  import- 
ance, and  we  wish  to  be  precise  in  explaining  it,  we  may 
adopt  the  latter  method,  but  the  former  is  more  generally 
useful.  There  are  so  many  valuable  ideas  and  important 
suggestions  in  the  words  of  Scripture,  that  we  can  ill  afford 
to  deprive  ourselves  of  this  help.  For  the  Bible,  with  all 
its  ideas,  is  common  property.  No  minister  need  fear  the 
charge  of  plagiarism,  when  he  borrows,  either  in  word  or 


THE   FOUNDATION.  77 

thought  from  its  inspired  pages.  He  is  God's  ambassador, 
with  the  Bible  for  his  letter  of  instruction,  and  the  more 
freely  he  avails  himself  of  it,  if  it  be  done  skillfully,  the 
better  for  the  authority  of  his  mission.  We  may  often 
select  a  subject  that  appears  dark  and  confused,  but  when 
we  have  found  a  passage  of  Scripture  embracing  the  same 
idea,  there  may  be  something  in  it  that  will  solve  every 
doubt,  and  indicate  the  very  thoughts  we  wish  to  enforce. 
For  this  reason  we  believe  that  under  ordinary  circum- 
stances, the  practice  of  first  constructing  the  sermon  and 
only  at  the  last  moment  before  delivery,  tacking  on  a  text, 
is  not  the  best. 

Another  reason  in  favor  of  previously  selecting  the  text 
is  worth  consideration.  The  people,  who  are  not  supposed 
to  know  anything  of  the  subject,  expect,  when  we  read  a 
passage  of  Scripture,  as  the  foundation  of  our  remarks,  that 
it  will  be  something  more  than  a  mere  point  of  departure. 
They  anticipate  that  it  will  be  kept  always  in  view,  and  fur- 
nish the  key-note  to  the  whole  sermon.  This  is  but  reason- 
able, and  if  disappointed,  they  will  not  so  well  appreciate 
what  is  really  good  in  the  discourse.  We  would  not  sacri- 
fice unity  to  a  mere  rambling  commentary  on  the  words  of 
the  text.  Let  the  subject  be  first  in  the  mind  and  bend 
everything  to  itself.  But  let  the  text  be  next  in  importance, 
and  the  whole  subject  be  unfolded  with  it  always  in  view. 
It  may  be  feared  that  the  work  of  sermonizing  will  be  ren- 
dered more  difficult  by  observing  this  double  guidance,  but 
if  a  proper  text  be  chosen — one  that,  in  its  literal  meaning, 
will  embrace  the  subject — the  labor  will  be  much  lightened. 

It  is  a  common  fault  to  take  a  passage  of  Scripture  con- 
sisting of  a  few  words  only,  and  put  our  own  meaning  upon 
it,  without  reference  to  the  intention  of  the  inspired  writer 
who  penned  it.  This  borders  very  closely  on  irreverence. 
If  we  cannot  use  God's  words  in  the  sense  he  uses  them,  we 
had  better  speak  without  a  text  at  all,  and  then  our  sin  will 
only  be  a  negative  one.  The  taking  of  a  few  words  divorced 
from  their  connection,  and  appending  them  to  a  discourse  or 


78  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 

essay,  that  has  no  relation  to  their  true  meaning,  is  not  less 
a  profanation  than  it  would  be  to  prefix  the  motto,  "  Perfect 
love  casteth  out  fear,"  to  a  fashionable  novel.  But  when, 
on  the  other  hand,  we  take  a  text  that  contains  our  subject, 
and  expresses  it  clearly,  we  are  prepared  to  compose  a  ser- 
mon to  the  best  advantage.  The  subject  present  in  our  own 
mind  runs  through  every  part  of  the  discourse,  making  it  a 
living  unity,  instead  of  a  collection  of  loose  and  disordered 
fragments ;  while  the  text,  being  always  kept  in  view  by  the 
hearers  as  well  as  by  the  speaker,  leads  all  minds  in  the  same 
direction,  and  gives  divine  sanction  to  every  word  that  is 
spoken.  It  is  not  without  reason  that  the  people,  whose 
tastes  are  nearly  always  right,  though  they  may  not  be  able 
to  give  a  philosophical  explanation  of  them,  complain  of 
their  preacher  when  he  does  not  "  stick  to  his  text."  It  is 
right  that  he  should  so  adhere. 

A  man  of  genius  may  neglect  this  precaution,  and  still 
succeed,  as  he  would  do,  by  mere  intellectual  force,  were  he 
to  adopt  any  other  course.  But  ordinary  men  cannot,  with 
safety,  follow  the  example  of  Sydney  Smith.  His  vestry 
complained  that  he  did  not  talk  about  the  text  he  took,  and, 
that  he  might  the  more  easily  reform,  they  advised  him  to 
divide  his  sermons  as  other  preachers  did.  He  promised  to 
comply  with  their  request,  and  the  next  Sabbath  began, 
"  We  will  divide  our  discourse  this  morning  into  three  parts ; 
in  the  first  place  we  will  go  vp  to  our  text,  in  the  second  we 
will  go  through  it,  and  in  the  third  we  will  go  FROM  it."  It 
was  generally  allowed  that  he  succeeded  best  on  the  last 
division,  but  preachers  who  have  not  his  genius  had  better 
omit  it. 

These  rules  in  relation  to  the  absolute  sway  of  object, 
subject  and  text,  may  appear  harsh  and  rigid,  but  cannot  be 
neglected  with  impunity.  A  true  discourse  of  any  kind  is 
the  orderly  development  of  some  one  thought,  with  so  much 
clearness,  that  it  may  ever  afterward  live  as  a  point  of  light 
in  the  memory ;  other  ideas  may  cluster  around  it,  but  one 
must  reign  supreme.  If  it  fails  in  this  particular,  nothing 


THE   FOUNDATION.  79 

else  will  redeem  it.  Brilliancy  of  thought  and  illustration 
will  be  wasted,  as  a  sculptor's  art  would  be  on  a  block  of 
clay. 

A  man  of  profound  genius  once  arose  to  preach  before  a 
great  assemblage,  and  every  breath  was  hushed  to  listen. 
He  spoke  with  power,  and  some  of  his  passages  were  full  of 
thrilling  eloquence.  He  poured  forth  beautiful  images  and 
deep  solemn  thoughts,  with  the  utmost  profusion.  Yet 
when  he  took  his  seat  a  sense  of  utter  disappointment  filled 
the  hearts  of  all  present.  The  sermon  was  confused.  No 
subject  could  be  traced  that  bound  it  together,  and  made  a 
point  of  union  to  which  the  memory  might  cling.  Had  he 
not  read  his  text  no  one  could  have  guessed  it.  It  was  a 
most  impressive  warning  of  the  necessity  of  laying  a  founda- 
tion before  erecting  a  magnificent  structure.  Had  he  adhered 
to  the  thoughts  expressed  in  his  text,  which  was  one  of  the 
richest  in  the  Scriptures,  his  eloquence  and  power  would  not 
have  been  thrown  away. 


CHAPTER    II. 

THE    PLAN THOUGHT  -  GATHERING  —  ARRANGING COM- 
MITTING. 

THE  logical  order  of  sermon  preparation  is,  first,  to  gather 
the  materials  of  which  it  is  composed  ;  second,  to  select 
what  is  most  fitting,  and  arrange  the  whole  into  perfect 
order ;  third,  to  fix  this  in  the  mind,  thus  making  it  available 
at  the  moment  of  use.  These  processes  are  not  necessarily 
separated  in  practice,  but  may  be  best  considered  in  the 
order  indicated. 

When  we  choose  a  subject  for  a  sermon,  and  allow  the 
mind  to  dwell  upon  it,  it  becomes  a  centre  of  attraction,  and 
naturally  draws  all  kindred  ideas  toward  it.  Old  memories 
that  have  become  dim  in  the  lapse  of  time,  are  slowly  hunted 
out  and  grouped  around  the  parent  thought,  and  each  hour 
of  study  adds  to  the  richness  and  variety  of  our  stores. 
The  relations  between  different  and  apparently  widely-separ- 
ated things  become  visible,  just  as  new  stars  are  seen  when 
we  gaze  intently  toward  them.  Everything  that  the  mind 
possesses  is  subjected  to  a  rigid  scrutiny,  and  all  that  appears 
to  bear  any  relation  to  the  subject  is  brought  into  view.  A 
considerable  period  of  time  is  usually  required  for  the  com- 
pletion of  all  this,  and  the  longer  it  is  continued  the  better, 
provided  the  interest  felt  is  not  abated. 

Such  continuous  reaches  of  thought  form  a  principal  ele- 
ment in  the  superiority  of  one  mind  over  another.  Even 
the  mightiest  genius  cannot,  at  a  single  impulse,  exhaust  the 
ocean  of  truth  that  opens  around  every  object  of  man's  con- 
(80) 


THE   PLAN.  81 

templation.  And  it  is  only  by  viewing  a  subject  in  every 
aspect,  that  we  can  guard  against  superficial  and  one-sided 
impressions.  But  the  continued  exertion  and  toil  which  this 
implies  are  nearly  always  distasteful,  and  the  majority  of  men 
can  accomplish  it  only  by  a  stern  resolve.  This  ability, 
whether  acquired  or  natural,  is  one  of  prime  necessity,  and 
the  young  minister,  at  the  very  first,  should  learn  to  thor- 
oughly investigate  and  finish  every  subject  he  undertakes, 
and  continue  the  habit  during  life.  This  will  generally  de- 
termine the  question  of  his  success  or  failure,  at  least  from 
an  intellectual  point  of  view.  Thought  is  a  mighty  archi- 
tect, and  if  you  keep  him  fully  employed,  he  will  build  up, 
with  slow  and  measured  strokes,  a  gorgeous  and  enduring 
edifice  on  any  subject  within  your  mental  range.  You  may 
weary  of  his  labor,  and  think  the  wall  rises  very  slowly,  and 
will  never  be  completed,  but  wait.  The  work  will  be  fin- 
ished at  last,  and  will  be  no  ephemeral  structure  to  be  swept 
away  by  the  first  storm,  but  will  stand  unshaken  on  the  basis 
of  eternal  truth. 

M.  Bautain  compares  the  accumulation  of  thought  around 
a  subject,  to  the  almost  imperceptible  development  of  organic 
life.  Striking  as  is  the  illustration,  there  is  one  marked 
point  of  dissimilarity.  The  growth  of  thought  is  voluntary, 
and  may  be  arrested  at  any  stage.  Even  a  cessation  of  con- 
scious effort  is  fatal.  To  prevent  this,  and  keep  the  mind 
employed  until  all  its  work  is  done,  requires,  with  most  per- 
sons, a  regular  and  formal  system.  Profound  thinkers,  who 
take  up  a  subject,  and  cannot  leave  it  until  it  is  traced  into 
all  its  relations,  and  mastered  in  every  part,  and  who  have  at 
the  same  time  the  power  of  long  remembering  the  trains  of 
thought  that  pass  through  their  minds,  may  not  need  an 
artificial  method.  But  these  are  exceptions  to  the  general 
rule. 

We  will  give  a  method  we  have  found  useful  for  securing 
sermon  materials,  and  allow  others  to  adopt  it  so  far  as  it 
may  prove  advantageous  to  them. 

Ideas  are  not  always  kept  equally  in  view.     Sometimes 
4* 


82  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 

we  may  see  one  with  great  clearness,  and  after  a  little  time 
lose  it  again,  while  another,  at  first  invisible,  comes  into 
sight.  Each  one  should  be  secured  when  it  occurs.  After 
the  subject  has  been  pondered  for  a  sufficient  length  of  time, 
write  all  the  thoughts  that  are  suggested  on  it,  taking  no 
care  for  the  arrangement,  but  only  putting  down  a  word  or 
brief  sentence  that  will  recall  the  idea  intended.  After 
everything  that  presents  itself  has  thus  been  rendered  per- 
manent, the  paper  containing  these  items  may  be  put  away, 
and  the  subject  recommitted  to  the  mind.  As  other  ideas 
arise,  let  them  be  recorded  in  the  same  way,  and  the  process 
extended  over  days  together.  Sometimes  new  images  and 
conceptions  will  continue  to  float  into  the  mental  horizon 
even  for  weeks.  Most  persons  who  have  not  tried  this 
simple  process,  will  be  surprised  to  find  how  many  thoughts 
they  have  on  the  commonest  topic.  If  some  of  this  gathered 
matter  remains  vague  and  indefinite,  it  will  only  be  necessary 
to  give  it  more  time,  more  earnest  thought,  and  all  obscurity 
will  vanish. 

At  last,  there  comes  a  consciousness  that  the  mind's  power 
on  that  theme  is  exhausted.  If  we  also  feel  that  we  possess 
all  the  requisite  material,  this  part  of  our  work  is  ended. 
But  more  frequently  there  will  be  a  sense  of  incompleteness, 
and  we  are  driven  to  seek  what  we  need  elsewhere. 

The  next  step  is  the  obtaining  of  new  facts.  We  have  thus 
far  dealt  with  what  the  mind  itself  possesses,  and  have  only 
sought  to  make  that  previously-accumulated  knowledge  fully 
available.  But  when  this  stage  is  reached,  we  hunger  for 
more  extended  information.  We  read  the  works  of  those 
who  have  treated  on  the  themes  we  are  discussing,  converse 
with  well-informed  persons,  observe  the  world  closely,  and 
at  last  find  the  very  idea  we  want.  We  receive  it  with 
joy,  and  from  thenceforth  it  becomes  a  part  of  our  being. 
We  place  the  treasure  on  paper  with  other  items,  and  con- 
tinue to  search  until  we  have  all  we  desire.  It  often  hap- 
pens that  we  do  not  find  exactly  the  object  of  our  search, 
but  strike  on  some  chain  that  guides  us  to  it  through  the 


THE   PLAN.  83 

subtile  principles  of  association.  It  is  only  the  more  wel- 
come because  we  have  thus  traced  it  out. 

We  have  on  paper,  at  last,  and  often  after  much  toil,  a 
number  of  confused,  unarranged  notes.  The  whole  mass 
relates  to  the  subject,  but  much  is  unfitting,  and  all  requires, 
by  another  process,  to  be  cast  into  order  and  harmony.  The 
first  step  in  this  direction  is  to  omit  everything  not  necessary 
to  the  purpose  of  the  sermon.  This  is  a  matter  of  great 
importance.  It  has  been  said  that  the  principal  difference 
between  a  wise  man  and  a  fool  is,  that  the  one  utters  all  his 
thoughts,  while  the  other  gives  only  his  best  to  the  world. 
Nearly  every  man  has,  at  times,  thoughts  that  would  profit 
mankind,  and  if  these  are  carefully  selected  from  the  puerili- 
ties by  which  they  may  be  surrounded,  the  result  cannot 
but  be  valuable.  And  if  this  cautious  selection  be  needed 
on  general  topics,  it  is  still  more  imperative  in  the  ministry 
of  the  Word.  The  preacher  must  beware  of  giving  any- 
thing repugnant  to  the  spirit  of  his  mission.  And  the  neces- 
sity of  a  purpose  running  through  his  whole  discourse,  which 
we  have  before  enlarged  on,  compels  him  to  strike  out  each 
item  at  variance  with  it.  It  is  well  to  carefully  read  over 
our  scattered  notes  after  the  fervor  of  composition  has  sub- 
sided, and  erase  all  that  are  unfitting.  Sometimes  this  will 
leave  very  few  ideas  remaining,  and  we  are  obliged  to  search 
for  others  to  complete  the  sermon.  This  can  be  continued 
until  we  have  gathered  a  sufficient  mass  of  clearly  connected 
thoughts  to  accomplish  the  object  in  view. 

Next  follows  the  task  of  constructing  the  plan  for  the 
intended  sermon.  Unless  this  is  well  done,  success  is  im- 
possible. The  mightiest  results  are  obtained  in  oratory  by 
the  slow  process  of  words,  one  following  another.  Each 
one  should  bear  forward  the  current  of  thought  in  the  right 
direction,  and  be  a  help  to  all  that  follow.  And  as,  in  ex- 
tempore speech,  these  words  are  given  forth  on  the  spur  of 
the  moment,  it  becomes  necessary  to  so  arrange  that  the 
proper  thought  to  be  dissolved  into  words,  may  always  be 
presented  to  the  mind  at  the  right  time. 


84  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 

In  some  cases  this  disposition  of  parts  is  quite  easy.  A 
course  indicated  by  the  very  nature  of  the  subject  will 
spring  into  view,  and  relieve  us  of  further  embarrassment. 
But  often  this  portion  of  our  task  will  require  severe  thought. 

Many  different  kinds  of  plans  have  been  specified  by  wri- 
ters on  Homiletics.  We  will  be  contented  with  four  divis- 
ions, based  on  the  mode  of  construction. 

The  first,  we  may  call  the  narrative  method.  It  is  princi- 
pally used  when  some  scripture  history  forms  the  basis  of 
the  sermon.  In  it  the  different  parts  of  the  plan  are  arranged 
according  to  the  order  of  time,  except  when  some  particular 
reason,  borrowed  from  the  other  methods,  intervenes.  When 
there  are  few  or  none  of  these  portions  which  give  it  a  com- 
posite character,  the  development  proceeds  with  all  the  sim- 
plicity of  a  story.  Many  beautiful  sermons  have  been  thus 
constructed. 

A  second  method  is  the  textual.  Each  part  of  the  sermon 
rests  on  some  of  the  words  or  clauses  of  the  text,  and  these 
suggest  the  order  of  its  unfolding,  although  they  may  be 
changed  to  make  it  correspond  more  nearly  to  the  narra- 
tive, or  the  logical  methods.  This  kind  of  plan  has  an  ob- 
vious advantage  in  assisting  the  memory  by  suggesting  each 
part  at  the  proper  time. 

The  logical  method  is  the  third  we  will  describe.  A  topic 
is  taken,  and  without  reference  to  the  order  of  time  or  the 
words  of  the  text,  is  unfolded  as  a  proposition  in  Geometry 
— each  thought  being  preliminary  to  that  which  follows,  and 
the  whole  ending  in  the  demonstration  of  some  great  truth, 
and  the  deduction  of  its  legitimate  corollaries.  This  method 
is  exceedingly  valuable  in  many  cases,  if  not  pressed  too  far. 
The  last  method,  and  the  one  employed  more  frequently 
than  all  the  others,  is  the  divisional.  It  is  the  military 
arrangement,  for  in  it  the  whole  sermon  is  organized  like  an 
army.  All  the  detached  items  are  brought  into  related 
groups,  each  governed  by  a  principal  thought,  and  these 
again  are  held  in  strict  subordination  to  the  supreme  idea ; 
or,  to  change  the  figure,  the  entire  mass  resembles  a  tree, 


THE    PLAtf.  85 

with  its  single  trunk,  its  branches  subdivided  into  smaller 
ones,  and  all  covered  with  a  beautiful  robe  of  leaves,  that 
rounds  its  form  into  graceful  outlines,  even  as  the  flow  of 
words  harmonizes  our  prepared  thoughts,  into  the  unity  of 
a  living  discourse. 

A  subject  will  many  times  arrange  itself  almost  sponta- 
neously into  several  different  parts,  which  thus  form  the 
proper  divisions,  and  these  again  may  be  easily  analyzed 
into  their  sub-divisions.  Even  when  this  is  not  the  case,  we 
will  see,  as  we  examine  our  jottings,  that  a  few  of  the  ideas 
stand  out  in  especial  prominence,  and  with  a  little  close 
study  of  relations  and  affinities,  all  the  others  may  be  made 
to  group  themselves  around  these.  The  individual  ideas 
which  we  put  down  on  the  first  study  of  the  subject,  usually 
form  the  sub-divisions,  and  some  generalization  of  them  the 
divisions. 

It  is  well  not  to  make  the  branches  of  a  subject  too  numer- 
ous, or  they  will  introduce  confusion,  and  fail  to  be  remem- 
bered. From  two  to  four  divisions,  wth  two  or  three 
sub-divisions  under  each,  are  in  a  majority  of  cases  better 
than  a  larger  number.  The  tendency  to  multiply  them 
almost1  infinitely,  which  was  formerly  very  prevalent,  and 
is  still  too  common,  receives  a  merciless,  but  well-de- 
served rebuke  from  Stephens,  in  his  "  Preaching  Required 
by  the  Times."  He  is  criticising  a  popular  "Preacher's 
Manual " : 

"  These  more  than  six  hundred  pages  are  devoted  exclu- 
sively to  the  technicalities  of  sermonizing.  We  almost  per- 
spire as  we  trace  down  the  tables  of  contents.  Our  eye  is 
arrested  by  the  *  divisions  '  of  a  subject — and  here  we  have 
no  less  than  '  nine  kinds  of  divisions  :'  the  *  Exegetical  Di- 
vision,' the  '  Accomodational  Division,'  the  '  Regular  Di- 
vision,' the  '  Interrogative  Division,'  the  *  Observational 
Division,'  the  '  Prepositional  Division,'  etc, ;  and  then 
come  the  '  Rise  from  Species  to  Genus,'  the  *  Descent  from 
Genus  to  Species.'  And  then  again  we  have  exordiums  : 
*  Narrative  Exordiums,' '  Expository  Exordiums,'  'Argument- 


86  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 

ative  Exordiums,'  '  Observational  Exordiums,'  '  Applicatory 
Exordiums,'  '  Topical  Exordiums,'  and,  alas  for  us  !  even 
'  Extra-Topical  Exordiums.'  Ones  thoughts  turn  away  from 
a  scene  like  this  spontaneously  to  the  Litany,  and  query  if 
there  should  not  be  a  new  prayer  there. 

"  But  this  is  not  all.  Here  are  about  thirty  stubborn 
pages  to  tell  you  how  to  make  a  comment  on  your  text,  and 
we  have  the  '  Eulogistic  Comment '  and  the  '  Dislogistic 
Comment,'  (turn  to  your  dictionary,  reader ;  we  cannot  stop 
in  the  race  to  define),  c  Argumentative  Comment '  and  the 
c  Contemplative  Comment,'  the  '  Hyperbolical  Comment,'  the 
4  Interrogative  Comment,'  and  the  list  tapers  off  at  last  with 
what  it  ought  to  have  begun  and  ended  with,  the  '  Expository 
Comment.' 

"  And  even  this  is  not  all.  Here  is  a  section  on  the  '  Dif- 
ferent kinds  of  Address,'  and  behold  the  astute  analysis : 
'  The  Appellatory,  the  Entreating,  the  Expostulatory,  the 
Remedial,  the  Directive,  the  Encouraging,  the  Consoling, 
the  Elevating,  the  Alarming,  the  Tender,  the  Indignant,  the 
Abrupt.' 

t£  This  is  the  way  that  the  art  l  Homiletic  '  would  teach  us 
when  and  how  to  be  '  Tender,'  '  Indignant,'  '  Consoling,'  and 
even  c  Abrupt !'  l  Nonsense  !' 

"  Yes,  {  nonsense  !'  says  any  man  of  good  sense  in  looking 
at  this  folly :  a  folly  which  would  be  less  lamentable  if  it 
could  only  be  kept  to  the  homiletic  professor's  chair,  but 
which  has  still  an  almost  characteristic  effect  on  pulpit  elo- 
quence— not  only  on  the  form  of  the  sermon,  but  as  a  natu- 
ral consequence  on  its  very  animus.  This  tireless  author 
gives  all  these  outlines  as  practical  prescriptions.  He  even 
presents  them  in  a  precise  formula.  We  must  yield  to  the 
temptation  to  quote  it.  '  There  are,'  he  says,  '  certain  tech- 
nical signs  employed  to  distinguish  the  several  parts  of  a 
discourse.  The  first  class  consists  of  the  principal  divisions, 
marked  in*  Roman  letters,  thus  :  L,  II.,  III.,  IV.,  etc.  Xext, 
the  subdivisions  of  the  first  class,  in  figures,  1,  2,  3,  etc.  Under 
these,  subdivisions  of  the  second  class,  marked  with  a  curve  on 


THE   PLAN.  87 

the  right,  as  1),  2),  3),  etc.  Then,  subdivisions  of  the  third  class, 
marked  with  two  curves,  as  (1),  (2),  (3),  etc. ;  and  under 
these,  subdivisions  of  'the  fourth  class,  in  crotchets,  thus  :  [1], 
[2],  [3].  As- 

"  '  I.  Principal  division. 

1.  Subdivision  of  first  class. 
1).  "   second  class. 

(1).  "          "  third  class. 

[1].  "          "  fourth  class. 

"  Mathematical  this,  certainly  ;  some  of  Euclid's  problems 
are  plainer.  As  a  '  demonstration  '  is  obviously  necessary, 
the  author  proceeds  to  give  the  outline  of  a  sermon  on  '  The 
Diversity  of  Ministerial  Gifts?  from  the  text  *  Noio  there  are 
Diversities  of  Gifts?  etc.  He  has  but  two  '  General  Divisions,' 
but  makes  up  for  their  paucity  by  a  generous  allowance  of 
4  Subdivisions.'  His  '  General  Divisions  '  are,  I.  'Exemplify 
the  Truth  of  the  Text.  II.  Derive  some  Lessons  of  Instruction, 
etc., — an  arrangement  simple  and  suitable  enough  for  any 
popular  audience,  if  he  were  content  with  it,  but  under  the 
first  head  he  has  two  '  subdivisions,'  the  first  of  which  is  re- 
duced to  thirteen  sub-subdivisions,  and  one  of  these  thirteen 
again  to  seven  sub-sub-subdivisions  !  The  second  of  his  sub- 
divisions again  divided  into  eight  sub-subdivisions,  while  the 
1  homily '  (alas  for  the  name  !)  is  completed  by  a  merciless 
slashing  of  the  second  '  general  division '  into  no  less  than 
eight  subdivisions.  The  honest  author,  when  he  takes  breath 
at  the  end,  seems  to  have  some  compunctious  misgivings 
about  this  infinitesimal  mincing  of  a  noble  theme,  and  re- 
minds the  amazed  student  that  though  the  plan  should  be 
followed  '  in  the  composition  of  a  sermon,'  the  '  minor  divi- 
sions'  can  be  concealed  from  view  in  preaching;  and  he 
concludes  the  medley  of  nonsense  with  one  sensible  and  very 
timely  admonition :  '  If  a  discourse  contain  a  considerable 
number  of  divisions  and  subdivisions,  care  should  be  taken 
to  fill  up  the  respective  parts  with  suitable  matter,  or  it  will 
be,  indeed,  a  mere  skeleton — bones  strung  together — '  very 
many  and  very  dry  !'  " 


88  EXTEMPOKE    SPEAKING. 

"When  we  have  accumulated  our  materials,  stricken  out  all 
not  needed,  and  determined  what  shall  be  the  character  of 
our  plan,  the  remainder  of  the  work  must  be  left  to  individual 
taste  and  judgment.  No  rules  can  be  given  that  will  meet 
every  case.  We  might  direct  to  put  first  what  is  most  easily 
comprehended,  what  is  necessary  for  understanding  other 
portions,  and  also  what  is  least  likely  to  be  disputed.  But 
beyond  these  obvious  directions  little  aid  can  be  given.  The 
preacher  must  form  his  own  ideal,  and  work  up  to  it.  He 
may  profitably  examine  sermon  skeletons,  to  learn  what  such 
forms  should  be.  And  when  he  hears  good  discourses  he 
may  look  beneath  the  burning  words,  and  see  what  are  the 
merits  of  the  frame-work  on  which  they  rest.  This  may 
render  him  dissatisfied  with  his  own  achievements,  but  such 
dissatisfaction  is  the  best  pledge  of  earnest  effort  for  higher 
results. 

A  certain  means  of  improvement  is  to  bestow  a  great  deal 
of  time  and  thought  on  the  formation  of  plans,  and  make  no 
disposition  of  any  part  without  a  satisfactory  reason.  If 
this  course  is  faithfully  continued,  the  power  to  arrange 
properly  will  be  acquired,  and  firm,  coherent,  and  logical 
sermons  be  constructed. 

There  are  certain  characteristics  that  each  sermon  skeleton 
should  possess.  It  must  indicate  the  nature  of  the  discourse, 
and  mark  out  each  of  its  steps  with  accuracy.  Any  want 
of  definiteness  is  a  fatal  defect.  The  orator  must  feel  that  he 
can  rely  absolutely  on  it  for  guidance  to  the  end  of  his  dis- 
course, or  be  in  perpetual  danger  of  embarrassment  and  con- 
fusion. Each  clause  should  express  a  distinct  idea,  and  but 
one.  If  it  contain  anything  that  is  included  under  another 
head,  we  fall  into  wearisome  repetition,  the  great  danger  of 
extempore  preachers.  But  if  discordant  and  disconnected 
thoughts  are  grouped  together,  we  are  liable  to  forget  some 
of  them,  and  in  returning,  destroy  the  order  of  the  sermon. 

A  brief  plan  is  better  than  a  long  one.  Often  a  single  word 
will  recall  an  idea  as  perfectly  as  many  sentences  would  do, 
and  will  burden  the  memory  less.  We  do  not  expect  the  draft 


THE   PLAN.  89 

of  a  house  to  equal  the  building  in  size,  but  only  to  indicate 
the  position  and  proportion  of  its  apartments.  The  plan 
cannot  supply  the  thought,  but,  indicating  what  exists  in 
the  mind,  it  shows  how  to  bring  it  forth  in  regular  order. 
It  is  a  pathway  leading  to  a  definite  end,  and  like  all 
roads,  its  crowning  merits  are  directness  and  smoothness. 
Without  these,  it  will  perplex  and  hinder  rather  than  aid. 
Every  word  in  the  plan  should  express,  or  assist  in  express- 
ing an  idea,  and  be  so  firmly  bound  to  it  that  the  two  can- 
not be  separated  by  any  exigency  of  speech.  It  is  per- 
perplexing  in  the  heat  of  discourse  to  have  a  prepared  note 
lose  the  idea  attached  to  it,  and  become  merely  an  empty 
word.  But  if  the  conception  is  clear,  and  the  most  fitting 
term  has  been  chosen  to  embody  it,  this  cannot  easily  hap- 
pen. A  familiar  idea  may  be  noted  very  briefly,  while  one 
that  is  new  requires  to  be  more  fully  expressed.  Most  ser- 
mon skeletons  may  be  brought  within  the  compass  of  a  hun- 
dred words,  and  every  part  be  clear  to  the  mind  that  con- 
ceived it,  though,  perhaps  not,  comprehensible  by  any 
other. 

It  is  not  always  best  to  present  the  divisions  and  sub- 
divisions in  preaching.  The  congregation  do  not  care  how 
a  sermon  has  been  constructed,  provided  it  comes  to  them 
warm  and  pulsating  with  life.  To  give  the  plan  of  a  sermon 
before  the  sermon  itself,  is  contrary  to  the  analogy  of  nature. 
She  does  not  require  us  to  look  upon  a  grisly  skeleton  before 
we  can  see  a  living  body.  It  is  no  less  objectionable  to 
name  the  parts  and  numbers  of  the  sketch  during  the  dis- 
course, for  bones  that  project  through  the  skin  are  very 
uncomely.  The  people  will  not  suffer,  if  we  keep  all  the 
divisions  to  ourselves,  for  they  are  only  professional  de- 
vices to  render  our  share  of  the  work  easier.  Much  of 
the  proverbial  "  dryness  "  of  sermons  arises  from  displaying 
all  the  processes  we  employ.  A  hotel  that  would  have  its 
beef  killed  and  dressed  before  its  guests  at  dinner,  would 
not  be  likely  to  retain  its  patronage.  Whenever  we  hear  a 
minister  state  his  plan  in  full,  and  take  up  "  firstly  "  and 


90  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 

announce  the  sub-divisions  under  it,  we  prepare  our  patience 
for  a  severe  test. 

What  the  people  need,  are  deep,  strong  appeals  to  their 
hearts,  through  which  shines  the  lightning  of  great  truths, 
and  the  sword  of  God's  spirit  smites — not  dry,  dull  divisions 
through  which  "  it  is  easy  to  follow  the  preacher  " — a  compli- 
ment often  given,  but  always  equivocal.  A  tree  is  far  more 
beautiful  when  covered  with  waving  foliage,  even  if  some 
of  the  branches  are  hidden.  Let  the  stream  of  eloquence 
sweep  on  in  an  unbroken  flow,  bearing  with  it  all  hearts, 
but  giving  no  indication  of  the  manner  in  which  it  is  guided ; 
or,  better  still,  let  it  move  with  the  impetus  of  the  cannon 
ball,  overthrowing  everything  in  its  path,  but  not  proclaim- 
ing in  advance  the  mark  toward  which  it  is  flying  ! 

We  should  go  as  far  in  the  plan  as  we  intend  to  do  in  the 
sermon,  and  know  just  where  to  stop.  Then  we  arise  with 
confidence,  for  we  are  sure  that  we  have  something  to  say ; 
we  know  what  it  is ;  and  most  important  of  all,  we  will 
know  when  it  is  finished.  Most  objections  against  extem- 
pore preaching  apply  only  to  discourses  that  have  no  gov- 
erning plan.  When  this  is  firm  and  clear,  there  is  no  more 
danger  of  saying  what  we  do  not  intend,  or  of  running  into 
endless  digressions,  than  if  we  wrote  every  word.  Indeed 
there  is  no  better  way  to  compose  a  written  sermon,  than 
by  first  arranging  a  plan. 

But  it  may  be  urged  that  this  laborious  preparation — this 
careful  placing  of  every  thought — will  require  as  much  time 
as  to  write  in  full.  It  may  at  first.  The  mind  needs  to  be 
trained  in  the  work,  and  it  will  be  of  great  advantage  even 
as  a  mental  discipline.  But  it  grows  easier  with  practice, 
until  the  preparation  of  two  sermons  a  week  will  not  be  felt 
as  a  burden — will  only  afford  grateful  topics  of  thought  while 
busied  at  other  labor.  The  direct  toil  of  a  mature  preacher 
may  not  exceed  an  hour  per  week. 

The  sermon  is  now  clearly  indicated.  A  plan  has  been 
prepared  that  fixes  each  thought  to  be  expressed  in  its 
proper  place.  There  is  no  further  danger  of  the  looseness 


THE   PLAN.  91 

and  desultoriness  that  are  not  unfrequently  supposed  to  be 
peculiar  to  extemporaneous  speech.  It  is  possible,  in  the 
moment  of  utterance,  to  leave  the  beaten  track,  and  give 
expression  to  any  new  ideas  that  may  be  suggested.  But 
there  is  a  sure  foundation  laid — a  course  marked  out  that 
has  been  deeply  premeditated,  and  which  gives  certainty  to 
all  we  say. 

But  it  is  not  enough  to  have  the  plan  on  paper.  As  it 
came  from  the  mind  at  first  in  detached  items,  it  must,  in  its 
completed  state,  be  restored  to  it  again.  Some  ministers 
are  not  willing  to  take  the  trouble  of  committing  their  skele- 
tons to  memory,  but  lay  the  paper  before  them,  and  speak 
on  one  point  until  that  is  exhausted,  and  then  look  up  the 
next,  which  is  treated  in  the  same  manner.  This  tends 
powerfully  to  impair  the  unity  of  the  discourse,  which 
should  be  unbroken,  and  to  make  each  note  the  theme  of  a 
short,  independent  dissertation,  rather  than  an  integral  part  of 
the  whole.  The  minister  reaches  a  point  where  he  does  not 
know  what  is  to  come  next,  and  on  the  brink  of  that  gulf 
looks  down  at  his  notes,  and  after  a  search,  perhaps  finds 
what  he  wants.  Had  this  latter  thought  existed  in  his  mind, 
it  would  have  been  taken  notice  of  in  time,  and  the  close  of 
the  preceding  one  bent  into  harmony  with  it.  The  direct 
address  of  the  preacher  to  the  people,  which  they  value  so 
much,  is  interfered  with  in  the  same  way,  for  his  eye  must 
rest,  part  of  the  time,  on  his  notes.  The  divisions  also  of 
the  sermon  are  apt  to  be  mentioned,  for  it  is  hard  for  the 
tongue  to  refrain  from  pronouncing  the  words  that  the  eye 
is  glancing  over. 

For  all  these  reasons  we  believe  that  notes  should  seldom, 
if  ever,  be  used  in  the  pulpit.  They  remedy  none  of  the 
acknowledged  defects  of  extempore  speaking,  but  add  to 
them  the  coldness  and  formality  of  reading.  Those  who 
cannot  trust  the  mind  alone  had  better  go  further,  and  read 
their  sermons  with  what  earnestness  they  can  command,  and 
thus  secure  the  elegant  finish  supposed  to  be  attainable  only 
in  written  compositions. 


92  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 

But  not  all  who  use  notes  thus  abuse  them.  Many  employ 
them  merely  to  prevent  possible  forgetfulness,  and  perhaps 
do  not  look  at  them  once  during  the  sermon.  Yet  it  is  still 
better  to  carry  them  in  the  pocket,  and  thus  avoid  the  appear- 
ance of  servile  dependence,  while  they  would  still  guard 
against  such  a  misfortune  as  befel  the  Abbe  Bantam,  who, 
on  ascending  the  pulpit  to  preach  before  the  French  king 
and  court,  found  that  he  had  forgotten  the  subject,  plan  and 
text ! 

By  committing  the  plan  to  memory  the  mind  takes  pos- 
session of  the  whole  subject.  It  is  brought  into  one  view, 
and  if  any  part  is  inconsistent  with  the  main  discussion,  the 
defect  will  be  seen  at  once.  If  the  plan  is  properly  con- 
structed, the  mind  is  then  in  the  best  possible  condition  for 
speech.  The  object  is  fixed  in  the  heart,  and  will  fire  it  to 
earnestness  and  zeal,  and  the  subject  is  spread  out  before  the 
mind's  eye,  while  the  two  meet  and  mingle  in  such  a  way  as 
to  give  life  and  vitality  to  every  part.  This  is  just  what  is 
needed  in  true  preaching.  The  speaker's  soul,  heated  by  the 
contemplation  of  his  object,  penetrates  every  part  of  his 
theme,  investing  it  with  an  interest  that  compels  attention. 
All  the  power  he  possesses  is  brought  to  bear  directly  on  the 
people.  We  can  scarcely  imagine  a  great  reformer — one 
who  has  shaken  the  nations — to  have  adopted  any  other 
method  of  address.  Think  of  Xavier  or  Luther  with  their 
notes  spread  out  before  them,  while  addressing  the  multi- 
tudes who  hung  on  their  lips  !  The  Presbyterian  elder  who 
once  prayed  in  the  presence  of  his  note-using  pastor:  "O 
Lord  !  teach  thy  servants  to  speak  from  the  heart  to  the 
heart,  and  not  from  a  little  piece  of  paper,  as  the  manner  of 
some  is  !"  was  not  far  wrong. 

It  is  well  to  commit  the  plan  to  memory  a  considerable 
time  before  entering  the  pulpit.  There  is  then  less  liability 
of  forgetting  some  portion  of  it,  and  it  takes  more  complete 
possession  of  the  mind.  This  is  less  important  when  we 
preach  on  subjects  with  which  we  are  perfectly  familiar,  for 
then  "  out  of  the  abundance  of  the  heart  the  mouth  speak- 


THE   PLAN.  93 

eth."  But  we  are  not  always  so  favored.  Even  if  the  salient 
features  are  well  known,  some  of  the  minor  parts  may  require 
close  consideration.  This  cannot  be  so  well  bestowed  until 
after  the  plan  is  completely  prepared,  for  before  that  time 
there  is  danger  that  much  of  our  attention  may  be  given  to 
some  idea  which  may  be  ultimately  rejected,  or  changed  with 
the  plan.  But  when  the  plan  is  finished,  each  idea  has  set- 
tled into  its  place.  If  obscurity  still  rests  anywhere,  it  will 
be  seen  at  once,  and  the  strength  of  the  mind  brought  to 
bear  on  that  particular  point.  The  impressions  then  made 
are  easily  retained,  because  associated  with  a  part  of  the 
prepared  outline.  Such  deep  meditation  on  each  division  of 
the  sermon  can  scarcely  fail  to  make  it  original  in  the  truest 
sense  of  the  term,  and  weave  it  together  with  strong  and 
massive  thought. 

After  the  plan  is  committed  to  memory,  we  can  meditate 
on  its  different  portions,  not  only  at  the  desk,  but  every- 
where. As  we  walk  from  place  to  place,  or  lie  on  our  beds, 
or  at  any  time  find  our  minds  free  from  other  engagements, 
we  can  ponder  the  ideas  that  cluster  around  our  subject 
until  they  grow  perfectly  familiar.  Even  when  we  are  read- 
ing, brilliant  thoughts  may  spring  up,  or  those  we  possessed 
before  take  stronger  and  more  definite  shape. 

This  course  we  would  strongly  urge  on  the  young  speaker. 
If  diligently  followed,  it  will  be  invaluable.  Arrange  the 
plan  from  which  to  speak  as  clearly  as  may  be,  and  memorize 
it ;  turn  it  over  and  over  again ;  ponder  each  idea  and  the 
manner  of  bringing  it  out ;  study  the  connection  between 
all  the  parts,  until  the  whole,  from  beginning  to  end,  appears 
perfectly  plain  and  simple.  This  method  of  preparation  has 
been  so  fully  tested  by  experience,  that  its  effectiveness  is 
no  longer  questionable. 

It  is  important  to  grasp  the  whole  subject,  as  nearly  as 
possible,  in  a  single  idea — in  the  same  way  that  the  future 
tree  is  compressed  in  the  germ  from  which  it  springs.  Then 
this  one  thought  will  suggest  the  entire  discourse  to  the 
speaker,  and  at  its  conclusion  will  be  left  clear  and  positive 


94  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 

on  the  hearer's  mind.  It  is  true  that  some  acute  auditors 
may  outrun  a  loose  speaker,  arrange  his  scattered  fragments, 
supply  his  omissions,  and  arrive  at  the  idea  which  has  not 
yet  formed  itself  in  his  own  mind.  Such  persons  often  com- 
mend preachers  who  are  incomprehensible  to  the  majority 
of  their  audience.  But  it  is  not  safe  to  trust  their  applause 
for  they  are  exceedingly  apt  to  be  in  the  minority. 

After  the  plan  is  memorized,  it  is  often  of  advantage  to 
sketch  the  discourse  in  full ;  if  this  is  done  in  long  hand, 
there  is  danger  that  its  slowness  will  make  it  more  of  a 
word-study  than  what  it  is  intended  to  be — a  test  of  ideas. 
Here  short  hand  is  valuable  ;  and  its  use  in  this  manner  will 
at  once  detect  anything  that  may  be  wrong  in  the  plan,  for 
if  all  is  well  arranged  there  need  be  no  pause  in  the  most 
rapid  composition.  If  we  are  able  at  one  eifort  to  throw 
the  whole  into  a  dress  of  words,  we  can  be  confident  that 
with  the  additional  stimulus  supplied  by  the  presence  of  a 
congregation,  it  will  be  easy  to  do  the  same  again.  There 
should  be  no  attempt,  at  the  time  of  speaking,  to  recall  the 
terms  used  in  writing,  but  our  command  of  language  is 
usually  improved  by  having  so  lately  used  many  of  the 
terms  we  will  need  again.  Frequently  there  are  fine  pas- 
sages in  the  sermons  thus  struck  off  at  white  heat  which  we 
would  not  willingly  forget,  yet  it  is  better  to  make  no  effort 
to  remember  them,  for  we  are  almost  certain  to  rise  even 
higher  in  the  excitement  of  speech. 

Those  who  cannot  write  at  a  speed  approaching  that  of 
the  tongue,  and  who  wish  a  little  more  assistance  than  is  fur- 
nished by  the  plan,  can  make  a  brief  sketch  of  it — a  compact 
and  intelligible  model  of  the  whole  subject.  A  discourse 
that  requires  an  hour  in  delivery  may  be  compressed  into 
a  wonderfully  small  compass,  without  a  material  thought 
being  omitted  or  obscurely  indicated.  Such  a  sketch  differs 
from  the  plan  in  clearly  expressing  all  the  ideas  that  under- 
lie the  discourse,  while  the  latter  would  be  unintelligible  to 
any  but  the  writer.  The  one  is  only  a  t'e\v  marks  thrown 
out  into  the  field  of  thought,  by  which  an  intended  path- 


THE   PLAN.  95 

way  is  indicated ;  the  other  is  an  exceedingly  brief  view  of  the 
thoughts  themselves,  without  adornment  or  verbiage.  Some 
speakers  who  might  feel  insecure  in  trusting"  the  notes  and 
hints  of  the  plan,  would  feel  free  to  enlarge  on  a  statement 
of  their  thoughts,  so  brief  as  to  require  only  two  or  three 
minutes  for  reading.  But  this  is  only  an  expedient,  and 
need  not  be  adopted  by  those  who  have  confidence  in  their 
trained  and  cultivated  powers. 

The  method  of  committing  to  memory  a  skeleton  for  the 
purpose  of  securing  our  accumulations,  is  widely  different 
from  the  systems  of  Mnemonics  that  were  once  so  current. 
Ideas  are  linked  together  by  natural,  not  artificial  asso- 
ciations. It  is  the  grasping  of  one  thought  that  points  to 
another,  or  dissolves,  as  we  gaze  upon  it,  into  minuter  ones, 
and  is,  in  most  instances,  based  upon  that  rigid  analy- 
sis which  cannot  be  dispensed  with  even  by  those  who 
would  think  exactly.  All  who  write  their  sermons  would 
do  well  to  adopt  it.  Strict  analysis  and  broad  generaliza- 
tion are  the  foundation  of  all  science,  and  if  the  preacher 
builds  upon  them  the  world  of  spiritual  truth  will  yield  him 
its  treasures. 

After  a  plan  has  been  fully  prepared  it  may  easily  be  pre- 
served for  future  use,  by  being  copied  into  a  book  kept  for 
the  purpose,  or,  what  is  more  convenient  in  practice,  folded 
into  an  envelope,  with  the  subject  written  on  the  back.  By 
the  latter  means  a  large  number  may  be  preserved  in  such 
form  as  to  be  readily  consulted.  These  can  be  improved  as 
our  knowledge  increases,  so  as  to  be,  at  any  time,  the  com- 
plete expression  of  our  ability  on  the  theme  treated  of. 


CHAPTER  m. 

PRELIMINARIES  —  FEAR  —  VIGOR  —  OPENING    EXERCISES. 

IT  is  an  anxious  moment  when,  after  having  completed 
his  preparation,  the  preacher  awaits  the  time  for  beginning 
his  intellectual  battle.  Men  who  are  physically  brave  often 
tremble  in  this  emergency.  The  shame  of  failure  appears 
worse  than  death  itself,  and  as  the  soldier  feels  more  of  cold 
and  shrinking  terror  while  listening  for  the  peal  of  the  first 
gun,  than  when  the  conflict  deepens  into  blood  around  him, 
so  the  speaker  suffers  more  in  this  moment  of  expectancy 
than  in  any  that  comes  after.  He  sees  the  danger  in  its  full 
magnitude  without  the  inspiration  that  attends  it.  Yet 
he  must  remain  calm  and  collected,  for  unless  he  is  mas- 
ter of  himself,  he  cannot  expect  to  rule  the  multitude  before 
him.  He  must  keep  his  material  well  in  hand,  that  it  may 
be  used  at  the  proper  time,  although  it  is  not  best  to  be  con- 
tinually conning  over  what  he  has  to  say.  The  latter  would 
destroy  the  freshness  of  his  matter,  and  bring  him  to  the  de- 
cisive test  weary  and  jaded.  He  only  needs  to  be  assured 
that  his  thoughts  are  within  reach. 

It  is  very  seldom  possible  to  banish  all  fear,  and  it  is  to 
the  speaker's  advantage  that  he  cannot.  His  timidity  arises 
from  several  causes,  which  differ  widely  in  the  effects  they 
produce.  A  conscious  want  of  preparation  is  one  of  the 
most  distressing  of  these.  When  this  proceeds  from  willful 
neglect  no  pity  need  be  felt,  although  the  penalty  should  be 
severe.  If  the  speaker's  object  is  only  to  win  reputation — 
to  pander  to  his  own  vanity — he  will  feel  more  terrified  than 
(96) 


PRELIMINARIES.  97 

if  his  motive  were  worthy.  Such  is  often  the  position  of 
the  uncalled  minister.  He  can  have  no  help  from  on  high, 
and  all  his  prayers  for  divine  assistance  are  a  mere  mockery. 
But  if  we  speak  because  we  dare  not  refrain,  a  mighty  point 
is  gained,  for  then  failure  is  no  reproach.  And  the  less  of 
earthly  pride  or  ambition  mingles  with  our  motives,  the 
more  completely  can  we  rely  on  the  help  of  the  Spirit. 

Another  cause  of  fear  is  less  unworthy.  The  glorious  work 
in  which  we  are  engaged  may  suffer  from  our  insufficiency  ; 
for,  while  God  will  bless  the  truth  when  given  in  its  own 
beauty  and  power,  there  is  still  scope  enough  for  all  the 
vigor  of  intellect,  and  the  strongest  preacher  feels  the  respon- 
sibility of  rightly  using  his  powers  resting  heavily  upon  him. 

A  general  dread,  that  cannot  be  analyzed  or  accounted 
for,  is  perhaps  more  keenly  felt  than  any  other.  Persons 
who  have  never  spoken  sometimes  make  light  of  it,  but  no 
one  will  ever  do  so  who  has  experienced  it.  The  soldier, 
who  has  never  witnessed  a  battle,  or  felt  the  air  throb  with  the 
explosion  of  cannon,  or  heard  the  awful  cries  of  the  wounded, 
is  often  a  great  braggart,  while  "  the  scarred  veteran  of  a 
hundred  fights  "  never  speaks  of  the  carnival  of  blood  with- 
out shuddering,  and  would  be  the  last,  but  for  the  call  of 
duty,  to  brave  the  danger  he  knows  so  well.  A  few  speak- 
ers never  feel  such  fear,  but  it  is  because  they  do  not  know 
what  true  speaking  is.  They  have  never  felt  the  full  tide  of 
inspiration  that  sometimes  lifts  the  orator  far.  above  his 
ordinary  conceptions.  They  only  come  forward  to  relieve 
themselves  of  the  interminable  stream  of  twaddle  that  wells 
spontaneously  to  their  lips,  and  can  well  be  spared  the  pangs 
that  precede  the  birth  of  a  profound  and  living  discourse. 

This  kind  of  fear  belongs  to  oratory  of  any  character,  but 
especially  to  that  which  deals  with  sacred  themes.  It  resem- 
bles the  awe  felt  on  the  eve  of  all  great  enterprises,  and  when 
excessive,  as  it  is  in  some  highly  gifted  and  sensitive  minds, 
it  constitutes  an  absolute  bar  to  public  speech.  But  in  most 
cases  it  is  a  source  of  inspiration  rather  than  of  repression. 

There  is  a  strange  sensation  often  experienced  in  the 
5 


98  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING 

presence  of  an  audience  before  speaking.  It  may  proceed 
from  the  united  electric  influence  of  the  many  eyes  that  are 
turned  upon  the  speaker,  especially  if  he  catches  their  gaze. 
It  may  enchain  him  and  leave  him  powerless,  unless  he  rises 
superior  to  it,  and,  throwing  it  backward  to  its  source,  makes 
it  the  medium  of  his  most  subtile  conquests.  Most  speakers 
have  felt  this  in  a  nameless  thrill,  a  real  something,  pervading 
the  atmosphere,  tangible,  evanescent,  indescribable.  All 
writers  have  borne  testimony  to  the  effect  of  a  speaker's 
glance  in  impressing  an  audience.  Why  should  not  their 
eyes  have  a  reciprocal  power  ? 

By  dwelling  on  the  object  for  which  we  speak,  and  en- 
deavoring to  realize  its  full  importance,  we  will  in  a  measure 
lose  sight  of  the  danger  to  be  incurred,  and  our  minds  be 
more  likely  to  remain  in  a  calm  and  tranquil  state.  But  no 
resource  is  equal  to  the  sovereign  one  of  prayer.  The  Lord 
will  remember  his  servants  when  they  are  laboring  in  his 
cause,  and  grant  a  divine  influence  to  prepare  them  for  the 
work. 

No  change  in  the  plan  should  be  made  just  before  speaking, 
for  it  will  almost  inevitably  produce  confusion.  Yet  this 
error  is  very  difficult  to  avoid.  The  mind  has  a  natural  ten- 
dency to  be  going  over  the  same  ground,  revising  and  test- 
ing every  point,  and  is  liable  to  make  changes,  the  conse- 
quences of  which  cannot  at  once  be  foreseen.  After  all 
necessary  preparation  has  been  made,  we  should  wait  the 
result  quietly  and  hopefully.  Over-study  is  possible,  and 
when  accompanied  by  great  solicitude,  is  a  sure  means  of 
driving  away  all  interest  from  the  subject.  If  the  eye  be 
fixed  too  long  upon  one  object,  with  a  steadfast  gaze,  it  will 
be  unable  to  see  at  all.  So  the  mind,  if  confined  to  one 
point  for  a  great  period,  will  lose  its  vivacity,  and  grow 
weary.  Nothing  can  compensate  for  the  want  of  elasticity 
and  vigor  in  the  act  of  delivery.  It  is  not  enough  to  enu- 
merate a  dry  list  of  particulars,  but  we  must  enter  into  their 
spirit  with  the  deepest  interest.  This  cannot  be  counter- 
feited. To  clearly  arrange,  and  weigh  every  thought  that 


PRELIMINARIES.  99 

belongs  to  the  subject,  lay  it  aside  until  the  time  for  speech, 
and  then  enter  upon  it  with  only  such  a  momentary  glance  as 
will  assure  us  that  all  is  right,  is  doubtless  the  method  to  make 
our  strength  fully  available.  To  await  the  decisive  moment 
with  calm  self-confidence,  is  very  difficult,  especially  for  begin- 
ners, but  the  ability  to  do  it  may  be  acquired  by  judicious  prac- 
tice and  firm  resolution.  M.  Bautain,  whose  experience  was 
very  extensive,  says  that  he  has  sometimes  felt  so  confident 
of  his  preparation,  as  to  fall  asleep  while  waiting  to  be  sum- 
moned to  the  pulpit ! 

But  those  who  misimprove  the  last  moments  by  too  much 
thought,  form  the  smallest  class.  Many,  through  mere  indo- 
lence, permit  the  finer  lines  of  the  future  discourse,  that  have 
been  traced  with  so  much  care,  to  fade  out.  This  not  unfre- 
quently  happens  to  those  who  preach  a  second  or  third  time 
on  the  same  subject.  Because  they  have  succeeded  once, 
they  imagine  that  the  same  success  is  always  at  command. 
This  is  a  hurtful,  though  natural  error.  It  is  not  enough  to 
have  the  material  for  a  sermon  where  it  may  be  collected  by 
a  conscious  and  prolonged  effort,  but  it  must  be  in  the  fore- 
ground. There  is  no  time,  in  the  moment  of  delivery,  for 
reviving  half  obliterated  lines  of  memory. 

We  once  witnessed  an  instance  of  most  unexpected  failure 
from  this  cause.  The  speaker  was  much  engrossed  with 
other  duties  until  the  appointed  hour,  and  then,  having  no 
leisure  for  preparation,  he  selected  a  sermon  he  had  preached 
shortly  before,  and  with  the  general  course  of  which  he  was 
no  doubt  familiar.  Yet  when  he  endeavored  to  produce  his 
thoughts  they  were  not  ready.  He  became  embarrassed, 
and  was  finally  compelled  to  take  his  seat  in  the  midst  of 
his  intended  discourse. 

It  is  well,  during  the  last  interval,  to  care  for  the  strength 
of  the  body,  for  its  condition  will  influence  all  the  manifesta- 
tions of  mind.  It  is  said  that  the  pearl-diver,  before  ventur- 
ing into  the  depths  of  the  sea,  always  spends  a  few  moments 
in  deep  breathing,  and  other  bodily  preparation.  In  the 
excitement  of  speech,  the  whirl  and  hurricane  of  emotion,  it 


100  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 

is  necessary  that  our  physical  condition  should  be  such  as  to 
bear  all  the  tension  put  upon  it.  Mental  excitement  wears 
down  the  body  faster  than  muscular  labor.  To  meet  all  its  de- 
mands we  must  reserve  our  strength  for  the  time  it  is  needed  ; 
for  any  illness  will  operate  as  a  direct  reduction  of  the  orator's 
power,  and  he  must  not  hope,  under  its  influence,  to  realize 
full  success. 

Holyoake  makes  the  following  pertinent  observations  in 
reference  to  this  point : 

"  Perhaps  the  lowest  quality  of  the  art  of  oratory,  but 
one  on  many  occasions  of  the  first  importance,  is  a  certain 
robust  and  radiant  physical  health ;  great  volumes  of  animal 
heat.  In  the  cold  thinness  of  a  morning  audience,  mere 
energy  and  mellowness  is  inestimable  ;  wisdom  and  learning 
would  be  harsh  and  unwelcome  compared  with  a  substantial 
man,  who  is  quite  a  house-warming." 

The  picture  painted  in  romances  of  a  speaker  with  atten- 
uated form,  and  trembling  step,  scarcely  able  to  sustain  his 
own  weight  as  he  ascends  the  platform,  but  who,  the  mo- 
ment he  opens  his  lips,  becomes  transfigured  in  the  blaze  of 
eloquence,  is  more  poetical  than  natural.  Let  the  instru- 
ment be  in  perfect  tune,  and  then  can  the  hand  of  genius 
evoke  from  it  sweet  and  thrilling  music. 

As  the  time  for  speaking  approaches  every  fatiguing  exer- 
tion should  be  avoided. 

In  the  "  Rudiments  of  Public  Speaking,"  Holyoake  gives 
a  passage  from  his  own  experience  which  well  illustrates  this : 

"  One  Saturday  I  walked  from  Sheffield  to  Huddersfield  to 
deliver  on  the  Sunday  two  anniversary  lectures.  It  was  my 
first  appearance  there,  and  I  was  ambitious  to  acquit  myself 
well.  But  in  the  morning  I  was  utterly  unable  to  do  more  than 
talk  half  inaudibly  and  quite  incoherently.  In  the  evening 
I  was  tolerable,  but  my  voice  was  weak.  My  annoyance  was 
excessive.  I  was  a  paradox  to  myself.  My  power  seemed 
to  come  and  go  by  some  eccentric  law  of  its  own.  I  did 
not  find  out  till  years  after  that  the  utter  exhaustion  of  my 
strength  had  exhausted  the  powers  of  speech  and  thought, 


101 

and  that  entire  repose  instead  of  entire  fatigue  should  have 
been  the  preparation  for  public  speaking." 

Absolute  rest  is  not  generally  advisable,  for  then  the 
preacher  would  enter  the  pulpit  with  languid  mind  and 
slowly  beating  pulse,  and  would  require  some  time  to  over- 
come this  state.  A  brisk  walk,  when  the  health  is  good, 
will  invigorate  and  refresh  all  his  faculties,  and  in  part  pre- 
vent the  feebleness  and  faintness  of  a  listless  introduction, 
by  enabling  him  to  grasp  the  whole  subject  at  once,  and 
launch  right  into  the  heart  of  it.  Should  any  one  doubt  the 
power  of  exercise  to  produce  this  effect,  let  him,  when  per- 
plexed with  difficult  questions  in  his  study,  start  out  over 
fields  and  hills,  and  review  the  matter  in  the  open  air.  If 
the  minister  cannot  secure  this  kind  of  exercise  he  may  eas- 
ily find  a  substitute.  If  alone,  he  can  pace  back  and  forth, 
and  swing  his  arms,  until  the  circulation  becomes  brisk,  and 
pours  a  stream  of  arterial  blood  to  the  brain  that  will  sup- 
ply all  its  demands. 

Another  simple  exercise  will  often  prove  of  great  advan- 
tage. It  is  well  known  that  many  ministers  injure  them- 
selves by  speaking  too  much  from  the  throat.  This  results 
from  improper  breathing — from  elevating  the  upper  part  of 
the  chest  instead  of  pressing  the  abdomen  downward  and 
outward,  causing  the  air  to  pass  through  the  whole  length 
of  the  lungs.  To  breathe  properly  is  always  important,  and 
does  much  to  prevent  chest  and  throat  diseases.  But  it  is 
worthy  of  the  most  careful  attention  on  the  part  of  the 
speaker,  for  by  it  alone  can  he  attain  full  compass  and  range 
of  voice.  But  in  animated  extempore  speech  there  is  no 
time  to  think  of  the  voice  at  all,  and  the  only  method  possible 
is  to  make  the  right  way  so  habitual  that  it  will  be  adopted 
instinctively.  This  will  be  greatly  promoted  if,  just  before 
beginning  to  speak,  we  will  breathe  deeply  a  number  of 
times,  inflating  the  lungs  completely  to  their  extremities. 

At  this  last  hour,  the  speaker  must  not  dwell  upon  the 
dangers  he  is  about  to  encounter,  or  picture  the  desirability 
of  escape  from  them.  He  has  taken  every  precaution  and 


102  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 

made  every  preparation.     Nothing  remains  for  him  but  to 
put  his  trust  in  God,  and  bravely  do  his  duty. 

The  order  of  opening  services  is  different  in  the  different 
churches,  but  in  all  they  are  of  great  advantage  to  the  min- 
ister by  overcoming  excessive  timidity,  and  giving  an  easy 
introduction  to  the  audience.  The  hymn,  or  psalm,  is  to  be 
read,  which  is  not  a  very  embarrassing  task,  and  in  doing  it 
he  becomes  familiar  with  the  sound  of  his  own  voice.  Yet 
it  requires  many  rare  qualities  to  read  well.  Good  sense 
and  modesty  are  essential.  The  theatric  method,  sometimes 
admired,  exaggerating  every  tone,  and  performing  strange 
acrobatic  feats  of  sound,  tends  to  dispel  the  solemn  awe  and 
reverence  that  should  gather  around  the  sanctuary.  Let  the 
hymn  be  read  quietly,  with  room  for  rise  as  well  as  fall,  and 
all  be  perfectly  natural  and  unaffected.  The  sentiment  ex- 
pressed by  the  voice  should  correspond  with  the  meaning  of 
the  words.  Even  in  this  preliminary  exercise,  it  is  possible 
to  strike  a  chord  that  will  vibrate  in  unison  through  the 
hearts  of  preacher  and  people. 

Prayer  is  still  more  important.  When  it  is  read,  the  same 
remarks  apply  as  to  the  reading  of  the  hymns.  Each  word 
should  be  made  the  echo  of  an  inward  feeling.  But  in  most 
American  churches  prayer  is  extempore.  The  minister  ad- 
dresses heaven  in  his  own  words,  on  behalf  of  himself  and 
congregation.  The  golden  rule  here  is  to  pray  really  to 
God.  That  minister  had  no  reason  to  feel  flattered,  whose 
prayer  was  commended  as  the  most  eloquent  ever  offered  to 
a  Boston  congregation  !  The  mass  of  humanity  before  us 
should  only  be  thought  of,  in  order  to  express  their  wants, 
and  to  intercede  for  them  at  a  throne  of  grace.  The  simpler 
our  language  the  better  it  is  fitted  for  this  purpose.  Gaudy 
rhetoric,  and  even  the  charm  of  melodious  words,  if  in  the 
slightest  degree  sought  for,  is  out  of  place.  The  only  praise 
that  should  be  desired  from  a  congregation,  in  regard  to  their 
pastor's  prayers,  is  the  acknowledgment  that  their  holy 
yearnings  and  aspirations,  as  well  as  their  needs,  have  been 
clearly  expressed.  All  beyond  this  is  disgust  ing. 


PRELIMINARIES.  103 

Neither  should  fervid  utterance  be  strained  after.  If 
deep  emotions  arise,  and  express  themselves  in  the  voice,  it 
is  well.  But  without  these,  mere  loudness  of  tone  will  be 
empty  noise ;  the  prayer  will  be  the  hardest  part  of  the 
service  ;  and  complex  metaphors  and  profuse  poetical  quota- 
tions will  afford  very  inadequate  relief.  But  if  the  heart  be 
full  it  is  easy  to  pray,  and  this  renders  all  the  remainder  of 
the  service  easier.  A  bond  of  true  spiritual  sympathy  unites 
the  preacher  with  all  the  good  in  his  congregation,  and  as 
he  rises  to  speak,  their  prayers  are  given  for  his  success. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

THE   DIVISIONS  —  INTRODUCTION  —  DISCUSSION  —  CONCLUSION. 

THE  sermon  is  the  culmination  of  ministerial  labor.  Other 
duties  are  important,  but  preaching  is  highest  of  all.  Ex- 
ample, conversation,  private  influence,  only  prepare  the  way 
for  the  great  Sabbath  work.  In  it  the  minister  can  speak 
to  the  assembled  multitude  with  the  freedom  and  boldness 
of  truth.  The  believer  receives  deeper  insight  into  God's 
ways,  and  directions  for  his  own  walk.  The  careless  listen 
while  he  denounces  impending  wrath  and  shows  the  only 
means  of  escape.  He  wields  tremendous  power,  and  if  sin- 
cere and  unselfish,  he  cannot  fail  to  win  stars  for  his  heavenly 
crown. 

We  will  consider  the  sermon  under  the  three  parts  of 
introduction,  discussion  and  conclusion.  It  is  often  divided 
more  minutely,  but  these  will  be  sufficient  for  our  purpose. 

Nothing  is  harder  to  frame  than  a  good  introduction.  It 
is  indispensable,  for,  however  we  may  approach  our  subject 
there  is  a  first  moment  when  silence  is  broken  and  our 
thoughts  introduced.  The  rustle  of  closing  hymn  books 
and  the  subsiding  inurmur  of  the  audience,  tell  the  speaker 
that  the  time  has  come.  If  he  be  sensitive,  or  has  never 
spoken  before,  his  pulse  beats  fast,  his  face  flushes,  an  inde- 
scribable feeling  of  faintness  and  fear  thrills  every  nerve. 
He  advances  to  the  pulpit,  and  reads  from  the  Bible  the 
words  that  are  to  be  the  warrant  for  his  utterances,  and 
breathing  a  silent  prayer  for  help,  opens  his  lips,  and  hears 
the  tremulous  echo  of  his  own  voice. 

There  is  a  vast  difference  between  reciting  and  extempor- 

104 


THE   DIVISIONS.  105 

izing  at  first,  and  the  advantage  is  all  on  the  side  of  recita- 
tion. Every  word  is  in  its  proper  place,  and  the  speaker  is 
perfectly  calm  and  self-confident.  He  is  sure  that  his  mem- 
ory will  not  fail  in  the  opening,  and  will  usually  throw  his 
whole  power  into  it,  causing  his  voice  to  ring  clear  and  loud 
over  the  house.  But  it  is  diiferent  with  the  extempore 
speaker.  He  is  sure  of  nothing,  and  the  weight  of  the 
whole  speech  is  heavy  on  his  mind.  He  is  glancing  ahead, 
striving  to  forecast  the  coming  sentences,  as  well  as  caring 
for  those  gliding  over  the  tongue,  and  his  first  expressions 
may  be  feeble  and  ungraceful.  Yet  this  display  of  modesty 
and  timidity  will  conciliate  the  audience  and  secure  their 
good  will.  We  can  scarcely  fail  to  distinguish  an  extem- 
porized discourse  from  a  recited  one,  by  the  difference  in  the 
introduction  alone. 

Some  persons  commit  the  opening  passages  of  the  sermon, 
to  avoid  the  pain  and  hesitancy  of  an  unstudied  beginning. 
But  while  this  may  accomplish  the  immediate  object,  it  is 
apt  to  be  at  the  expense  of  the  remaining  part  of  the  dis- 
course. The  mind  cannot  pass  easily  from  recitation  to  ex- 
temporization, and  the  voice,  being  too  freely  used  at  first, 
loses  its  power.  The  hearers  having  listened  to  highly  pol- 
ished language,  cannot  so  well  relish  the  plain  words  that 
follow,  and  the  whole  sermon,  which,  like  the  condor,  may 
have  pitched  from  Alpine  summits,  falls  fast  and  far  until 
the  lowest  level  is  reached.  A  written  introduction  may  be 
modest  and  unpretending,  but  unless  it  is  exactly  like  un- 
studied speech  there  will  be  a  painful  transition. 

A  favorite  method  of  avoiding  these  difficulties  is  to  make 
no  formal  introduction,  but  plunge  at  once  into  the  heart  of 
the  subject.  Occasionally,  this  can  be  done  to  good  advan- 
tage, and  tends  to  prevent  a  monotonous  uniformity.  But 
as  a  rule  it  is  better  to  prepare  the  minds  of  our  hearers  by 
all  needed  observations,  and  gradually  lead  them  to  our  sub- 
ject. 

The  introduction  should  not  be  left  to  the  chance  of  the 
moment.  It  requires  more  careful  study  than  any  other 
5* 


106  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 

part  of  the  sermon,  for  the  tide  of  speech,  which  may  after- 
ward bear  us  over  many  barriers,  is  riot  then  in  full  flow. 
But  the  preparation  should  be  general,  and  not  extend  to 
the  words.  A  first  sentence  may  be  forecast,  but  much  be- 
yond this  will  do  harm.  For  the  introduction  should  not  be 
the  part  of  the  discourse  longest  remembered.  It  would  be 
better  to  omit  it,  than  to  have  the  attention  distracted  from 
the  main  subject.  For  this  reason  nothing  far-fetched  or 
hard  to  be  understood  should  be  admitted.  But,  beginning 
with  some  familiar  thought  closely  connected  with  the  text, 
it  should  remove  difficulties  and  open  the  whole  subject  for 
discussion.  • 

Much  is  gained  if,  at  the  outset,  we  can  arrest  the  atten- 
tion and  wrin  the  sympathy  of  our  hearers.  They  come 
together  from  many  different  employments,  with  thoughts 
fixed  on  various  objects,  and  it  is  a  difficult  task  to  remove 
these  distracting  influences  and  cause  the  assembly  to  dwell 
with  intense  interest  on  one  subject.  Sometimes  a  startling 
proposition  will  accomplish  this  end.  Earnestness  in  the 
speaker  tends  powerfully  toward  it.  But  sameness  must  be 
carefully  avoided.  If  every  sermon  is  carried  through  an 
unvarying  number  of  always-expressed  divisions  and  sub- 
divisions, the  hearer  knows  what  is  coming,  and  loses  all 
curiosity.  We  have  heard  of  a  minister  who  made  it  a  rule 
to  consider  the  nature,  reason  and  manner  of  everything  he 
spoke  of.  He  would  ask  the  questions  :  "  What  is  it  ?  Why 
is  it  ?  How  is  it  ?"  The  eloquence  of  Paul  would  not  many 
times  have  redeemed  such  an  arrangement. 

A  considerable  degree  of  inattention  is  to  be  expected  in 
every  audience  at  first,  and  the  speaker's  opening  words  may 
be  unheard  by  many  and  unheeded  by  all.  It  is  useless  to 
attempt  by  violent  means  and  loudness  of  voice  to  awaken 
them  from  their  indifference.  The  preacher  may  safely  bide 
his  time.  If  his  words  have  weight  and  his  manner  indi- 
cate confidence,  one  by  one  wrill  listen,  until  that  electric 
thrill  of  sympathy,  impossible  to  describe,  but  which  can  be 
felt  as  easily  as  an  accord  in  music,  will  vibrate  through  the 


THE    DIVISIONS.  107 

hearts  of  all  present.  Then  the  orator's  power  is  fully  de- 
veloped, and  it  is  delightful  to  use  it.  This  silent,  pulsating 
interest  is  more  to  be  desired  than  vehement  applause,  for 
it  cannot  be  counterfeited,  and  indicates  that  the  hearts  of 
the  assemblage  have  been  reached,  and  fused  by  the  fires  of 
eloquence,  and  are  ready  to  be  molded  into  any  desired  form. 
Happy  the  minister  who  has  this  experience,  for  if  his  own 
heart  is  enlightened  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  he  can  stamp  on  the 
awakened  multitude  the  seal  of  undying  truth. 

The  introduction  should  be  plain,  simple  and  direct.  But 
its  very  simplicity  renders  it  more  difficult  to  construct. 
Preachers  who  are  great  in  almost  everything  else,  often 
fail  by  making  their  introductions  too  complicated,  thus 
defeating  their  own  purpose  as  surely  as  the  engineer  who 
gives  his  road  such  steep  grades,  that  no  train  can  pass  over 
it.  Others  deliver  a  string  of  platitudes  that  no  one  wishes 
to  hear,  and  the  audience  grows  restive  at  the  very  beginning. 

When  from  these  or  other  causes,  the  sermon  is  misbegun, 
the  consequences  are  likely  to  be  serious.  The  thought  is 
forced  home  on  the  speaker,  with  icy.  weight,  that  he  is  fail- 
ing, and  this  conviction  paralyzes  all  his  faculties.  He  talks 
on,  but  grows  more  and  more  embarrassed.  Incoherent 
sentences  drop  from  him,  requiring  painful  explanation  to  pre- 
vent them  from  degenerating  into  perfect  nonsense.  The  out- 
line of  his  plan  dissolves  into  mist.  The  points  he  intended 
to  make,  and  thought  strong  and  important,  now  appear 
very  trivial.  He  blunders  on  with  little  hope  ahead.  The 
room  may  grow  dark  before  him,  and  in  the  excess  of  his 
discomfort,  he  ardently  longs  for  the  time  when  he  can  close 
without  absolute  disgrace.  But,  alas  !  the  end  seems  far  off. 
In  vain  he  searches  for  some  avenue  of  escape.  There  is 
none.  His  throat  becomes  dry  and  parched,  and  the  com- 
mand of  his  voice  is  lost.  The  audience  grow  restive,  for 
they  are  tortured,  as  well  as  the  speaker,  and  if  he  were 
malicious  he  might  find  some  alleviation  in  this.  But  he 
has  no  time  to  think  of  it,  or  if  he  does,  it  reacts  on  himself. 
No  one  can  hoi})  him.  At  last,  in  sheer  desperation,  he  cuts 


108  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKI>7G. 

the  Gordian  knot,  and  stops — perhaps  seizing  some  swelling 
sentence,  and  hurling  it  as  a  farewell  volley  at  the  audience 
—or  speaks  of  the  eternal  rest,  which  no  doubt  appears  very 
blissful  in  comparison  with  his  own  unrest — then  sits  down 
bathed  in  sweat,  and  feeling  that  he  is  disgraced  forever ! 
If  he  is  very  weak  or  foolish,  he  resolves  that  he  will  never 
speak  again  without  manuscript,  or,  if  wiser,  that  he  will 
not  only  understand  his  discourse,  but  how  to  begin  it. 

The  passage  from  the  introduction  to  the  discussion  should 
be  gradual.  To  make  the  transition  smoothly,  and  strike 
the  subject  just  at  the  right  point,  continuing  the  interest 
that  may  have  been  previously  excited,  is  a  most  important 
achievement.  A  strong,  definite  purpose  materially  assists 
in  this,  for  it  dwells  equally  in  all  parts  of  the  sermon.  The 
object  is  clearly  in  view,  and  we  go  right  up  to  it  with  no 
wasted  words,  while  the  people  cheerfully  submit  to  our 
guidance  because  they  see  that  we  have  an  aim  before  us. 
But  if  this  be  absent  we  may  steer  around  our  subject,  and 
are  never  quite  ready  to  enter  upon  it,  even  if  we  are  not 
wrecked  at  the  outset.  A  careful  preparation  of  the  plan 
will  do  much  to  prevent  this,  but  it  is  not  enough,  for  the 
words  and  phrases  are  not  to  be  prepared.  With  every 
precaution,  the  best  of  speakers  may  fail  at  this  point,  and 
the  more  brilliant  the  introduction  the  more  marked  will  the 
failure  be.  When  this  danger  is  safely  passed,  he  is  in  the 
open  sea,  and  the  triumphs  of  eloquence  are  before  him. 

There  is  great  pleasure  in  speaking  well.  An  assembly 
hanging  on  the  words,  and  thinking  the  thoughts  of  a  single 
man,  gives  to  him  the  most  subtile  kind  of  flattery,  and  he 
needs  to  beware  how  he  yields  to  its  influence,  or  his  fall  will 
be  speedy  and  disastrous.  The  triumphs  of  oratory  are  very 
fascinating.  The  ability  to  sway  our  fellow  men  at  will — to 
bind  them  with  the  strong  chain  of  our  thought,  and  make 
them  willing  captives — produces  a  delirious  and  intoxicating 
sense  of  power.  But  this  is  very  transient,  and  unless  taken 
advantage  of  at  the  moment,  to  work  some  enduring  result, 
it  fades,  like  the  beautiful  cloud-work  of  morning,  before  the 


THE   DIVISION.  109 

rising  sun.  Even  during  the  continuance  of  a  sermon  it  is 
hard  to  maintain  the  influence  of  a  happy  moment.  Persons 
not  unfrequently  give  utterance  to  some  great  and  noble 
thought,  that  echoes  in  the  hearts  of  the  audience,  and  the 
nameless  thrill  of  eloquence  is  felt,  but  some  irrelevant 
phrase,  or  common-place  sentiment  dissolves  all  the  charm. 
To  avoid  this,  the  whole  discourse  must  be  of  a  piece,  and 
rise  in  power  until  the  object  is  accomplished. 

Diffuseness  is  often  supposed  to  be  an  essential  quality  of 
extemporaneous  speech.  It  is  not  such,  though  many  speak- 
ers do  fall  into  it.  The  reason  of  this  fault  is  that  they  are 
not  content  to  place  the  subject  in  a  strong  light  by  one 
forcible  and  luminous  expression,  but  say  nearly  what  they 
mean,  and  continue  their  efforts  until  they  are  satisfied. 
They  furnish  no  clear  view  of  anything,  but  give  a  sort  of 
twilight  intimation  of  their  idea.  But  serious  as  this  fault 
is,  it  may  easily  be  overcome.  Exquisite  finish,  and  elabor- 
ate arrangement  are  not  to  be  expected  in  off-hand  speech, 
but  we  may  give  force  and  true  shading  to  every  idea  just 
as  well  as  in  writing. 

To  express  exactly  what  we  mean  at  the  first  effort,  is  one 
of  the  greatest  beauties  of  a  spoken  style.  The  hearer  is 
filled  with  grateful  surprise  when  some  new  and  living  idea 
is  pjaced  before  him,  clothed  in  a  single  word  or  sentence. 
But  a  diffuse  speaker  gives  so  many  premonitions  of  his 
thought,  that  the  audience  comprehend  it  before  he  is  half 
through  the  discussion,  and  are  forced  to  await  his  ending, 
in  listless  weariness.  He  never  receives  credit  for  an  original 
idea,  because  his  advances  toward  it  call  up  the  same  thought 
in  the  mind  of  his  hearers,  and  when  formally  presented  it 
has  lost  all  novelty,  and  seems  to  be  trite. 

The  same  study  that  will  impart  the  power  of  condensa- 
tion in  writing  will  do  it  in  speech,  for  it  can  only  be  ob- 
tained in  either  by  earnest,  persevering  effort.  Frequently 
forecast  what  to  say,  and  drive  it  into  the  fewest  possible 
number  of  vivid,  expressive  words ;  then,  without  memor- 
izing the  language,  reproduce  the  same  thought  briefly  as 


110  EXTEMPORE  SPEAKING. 

possible  in  the  hurry  of  speech.  It  may  be  less  compact 
than  the  studied  production,  but  if  so,  let  the  effort  be  re- 
peated with  the  knowledge  of  where  the  defect  is,  and  this 
continued  until  it  can  be  cast  into  bold,  well-defined  outlines 
at  a  single  impulse.  This  process,  often  repeated,  will  give 
the  ability  to  condense,  but  in  order  to  exercise  it  success- 
fully another  quality  is  needed.  We  must  be  able  to  resist 
the  seduction  of  fine  language.  No  sentence  should  be 
introduced  because  it  glitters  or  sparkles,  for  a  single  un- 
necessary word  that  requires  others  to  explain  its  use,  may 
damage  a  whole  sermon.  Let  the  best  words  be  chosen  with 
reference  to  beauty  and  impressiveness  as  well  as  strict 
appropriateness,  but  the  latter  must  never  be  sacrificed. 
The  danger  of  showy  language  in  speech  is  greater  than  in 
a  written  composition,  for  if  the  writer  be  drawn  too  far 
away,  he  can  go  back  and  begin  again,  while  the  speaker  has 
only  one  trial.  If  beauties  lie  in  his  way  all  the  better,  but 
he  must  never  leave  his  path  to  search  for  them. 

Bishop  Simpson's  lecture  on  "  The  Future  of  our  Country," 
was  a  model  of  compactness.  Every  gaudy  ornament  was 
discarded,  and  short,  simple  sentences  conveyed  ideas  that 
would  have  furnished  a  florid  speaker  with  inexhaustible 
material.  The  whole  discourse  was  radiant  with  true  beauty 
— the  beauty  of  thought  shining  through  the  drapery  of 
words,  and  each  idea,  unweakened  by  any  pause  of  expecta- 
tion, struck  the  mind  as  new  truth,  or  the  echo  of  what  was 
felt,  but  never  so  well  expressed  before. 

We  have  seen  directions  for  "  expanding  thought,"  and  have 
heard  young  speakers  admire  the  ease  and  skill  with  which 
it  was  done.  But  thoughts  are  not  like  medicines  which 
require  dilution  in  order  to  be  more  certain  in  their  effects, 
and  more  readily  taken.  It  is  far  better  to  give  the  essence 
of  an  idea,  and  go  on  to  something  else.  If  thoughts  are 
too  few,  it  is  more  profitable  to  dig  and  delve  for  others,  than 
to  attenuate  and  stretch  what  we  have.  We  need  deep, 
burning,  throbbing  conceptions  that  will  live  without  arti- 
ficial aid. 


THE   DIVISION.  Ill 

A  similar  error  exists  in  regard  to  the  kind  of  language 
best  adapted  to  oratory.  High-sounding  epithets  and  latin- 
ized words  are  sometimes  supposed  to  be  the  proper  dress 
of  eloquence.  These  might  give  an  impression  of  our  learn- 
ing or  wisdom  to  an  ignorant  audience,  but  could  not  strike 
the  chords  of  living  sympathy  that  link  all  hearts  together. 
Language  is  only  available  as  a  medium,  so  far  as  hearer  and 
speaker  understand  it  in  common.  If  we  use  a  term  the 
congregation  have  seldom  heard,  even  if  they  can  arrive  at 
its  meaning,  it  will  lose  all  its  force  whilst  they  are  striving 
to  understand  it.  But  one  of  the  homely  Saxon  words  that 
dwell  on  the  lips  of  the  people,  will  unlade  its  meaning  in 
the  heart  as  soon  as  its  sound  strikes  the  ear.  For  while 
uncommon  words  erect  a  barrier  around  thought,  familiar 
ones  are  perhaps  not  noticed  at  all,  leaving  the  feeling  to 
strike  directly  to  its  mark. 

The  only  reason  why  Saxon  derivatives  are  so  powerful, 
is  because  they  are  usually  the  words  of  every-day  life.  But 
the  test  of  usefulness  is  not  in  etymology.  If  terms  of  Latin 
or  French  origin  have  passed  into  the  life  of  the  people,  they 
will  serve  the  highest  purpose  of  the  orator.  Of  course,  all 
debased  and  slang  words  should  be  rejected.  We  do  not 
plead  for  "  the  familiarity  that  breeds  contempt."  The  two 
great  requisites  in  the  use  of  words  are,  that  they  should 
exactly  express  our  idea,  and  be  familiar  to  the  audience. 
Melody  and  association  should  not  be  despised,  but  they 
are  secondary. 

Every  sermon  should  have  strong  points  upon  which 
especial  reliance  is  placed.  A  general  has  his  choice  bat- 
talions reserved  to  pierce  the  enemy's  line  at  the  decisive 
moment,  and  win  the  battle.  It  is  important  to  know  how 
to  place  these  reserved  thoughts,  that  all  their  weight  may 
be  felt. 

A  crisis  occurs  in  nearly  every  sermon — a  moment  when 
a  strong  argument  or  a  fervent  appeal  will  produce  the  result 
intended,  or  when  failure  becomes  inevitable — just  as  a  vigor- 
ous charge,  or  the  arrival  of  reinforcements,  will  turn  the 


112  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 

scale  of  battle,  when  the  combatants  grow  weary  and  dis- 
pirited. The  speaker,  knowing  what  his  object  is,  should  so 
dispose  his  forces  as  to  drive  steadily  toward  it,  and  when 
within  reach,  put  forth  all  his  power  in  one  mighty  effort, 
achieving  the  result  for  which  the  whole  speech  was  intended. 
If  neglected,  such  chances  seldom  return,  and  an  hour's  talk 
may  fail  to  accomplish  as  much  as  one  good  burning  sentence 
thrown  in  at  the  right  time.  This  should  be  foreseen,  and 
the  idea,  which  we  know  to  be  the  key  of  our  discourse,  care- 
fully prepared — in  thought,  not  word. 

Quotations,  either  in  prose  or  poetry,  may  be  often  used 
to  good  advantage,  but  should  be  short,  appropriate  and 
secondary.  The  grand  effect  of  an  extempore  discourse 
must  not  depend  on  a  borrowed  passage,  or  its  character  will 
be  changed,  and  its  originality  lost. 

We  have  all  along  taken  it  for  granted  that  deep  thought 
underlies  the  whole  discourse.  Without  this,  a  sermon  or 
any  serious  address  deserves  no  success.  Under  some  cir- 
cumstances nothing  is  expected  but  sound  to  tickle  the  ear. 
This  is  play,  while  the  eloquence  of  the  pulpit  is  solemn 
work.  The  very  fact  that  the  speaker  has  a  solid  and  worthy 
foundation,  gives  him  confidence.  He  knows  that  if  his 
words  are  not  ringing  music,  he  will  still  have  a  claim  on 
the  attention  of  his  auditors. 

It  is  not  necessary  that  our  thoughts  should  extend  far 
beyond  the  depths  of  the  common  mind,  for  the  most  weighty 
truths  lie  nearest  to  the  surface,  and  within  the  reach  of  all. 
But  most  men  do  not  dwell  long  enough  on  one  subject  to  un- 
derstand even  its  obvious  features,  and  when  these  are  fully 
mastered  and  presented  in  striking  form,  it  is  like  a  new  rev- 
elation. A  good  illustration  of  this  is  found  in  the  sublimity 
that  Kitto  imparts  to  the  journeyings  of  the  Israelites.  Very 
few  new  facts  are  stated,  but  all  are  so  arranged  and  vivified 
by  a  thoughtful  mind,  that  the  subject  grows  into  new  mean- 
ing. Let  the  preacher,  by  speaking  extempore,  save  his 
time  for  investigation  and  study,  and  his  sermons  will  soon 
have  a  charm  beyond  any  jingling  combination  of  words. 


THE  DIVISION.  113 

Is  the  minister,  as  he  stands  before  a  congregation  with 
their  eyes  fixed  upon  him,  to  expect  them  to  be  overwhelmed 
by  his  eloquence  ?  Such  a  result  is  possible,  but  is  seldom 
attained,  especially  when  sought  for.  If  persons  attempt 
what  is  beyond  their  power,  the  only  result  will  be  to  render 
themselves  ridiculous.  But  good  sense  and  solid  usefulness 
are  within  the  reach  of  all.  Any  man  who  studies  a  subject 
till  he  knows  more  about  it  than  others  do,  can  interest 
them  in  a  fireside  explanation,  if  they  care  for  the  matter  at 
all.  He  communicates  his  facts  in  a  plain  style  and  they 
understand  him.  Many  persons  will  sit  delighted  till  mid- 
night to  hear  a  man  converse,  but  will  go  to  sleep  if  he 
address  them  half  an  hour  in  public.  In  the  first  case  he 
talks,  and  is  simple  and  unaffected ;  in  the  other  he  speaks, 
and  uses  a  style  stiffened  up  for  the  occasion.  When  Henry 
Clay  was  asked  how  he  became  so  eloquent,  he  said  he  knew 
nothing  about  it ;  when  he  commenced  an  address  he  had 
only  the  desire  to  speak  what  he  had  prepared  (not  com- 
mitted), and  adhered  to  this  until  he  was  enwrapped  in  his 
subject  and  carried  away,  he  knew  not  how.  This  is  a  char- 
acteristic of  the  modern,  as  opposed  to  the  ancient,  school  of 
eloquence.  The  latter  memorized,  while  our  greatest  speak- 
ers only  arrange,  and  speak  in  a  plain,  business  style,  until 
hurried  by  the  passion  of  the  moment  into  bolder  flights. 
If  this  does  not  happen,  they  still  give  a  good  and  instruct- 
ive speech. 

These  few  considerations  may  be  of  use  when  the  speaker 
stands  in  the  pulpit,  but  he  must  rely  on  his  own  tact  for 
the  management  of  details.  Closely  observing  the  condi- 
tion of  the  audience,  taking  advantage  of  every  favoring 
circumstance,  he  moves  steadily  towards  his  object.  With 
an  unobstructed  road  before  him,  which  he  has  traveled  in 
thought  until  it  is  familiar,  he  will  advance  with  ease  and 
certainty.  As  he  gazes  into  the  intent  faces  around,  new 
ideas  arise,  and,  if  fitting,  are  woven  into  what  was  pre- 
viously prepared,  often  with  thrilling  effect.  Each  emotion 
kindled  by  sympathy  will  embody  itself  in  words  that  touch 


114  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 

the  heart  as  nothing  prepared  could  do,  and  each  moment 
his  own  conviction  sinks  deeper  in  the  hearts  of  his  hearers. 

There  are  three  principal  ways  of  concluding  a  sermon. 
The  first,  and  most  graceful,  is  to  condense  a  clear 
view  of  the  whole  argument,  and  leave  the  audience  with 
the  comprehensive  impression  thus  made.  This  is  admirably 
adapted  to  discourses  the  principal  object  of  which  is  to  con- 
vince the  understanding.  To  throw  the  whole  sweep  of  the 
argument,  every  point  of  which  has  been  enforced,  into  a  few 
telling,  easily  remembered  sentences,  will  go  far  to  make  the 
impression  permanent. 

The  old  plan  of  closing  with  an  exhortation,  is  perhaps 
the  most  generally  beneficial.  An  application  is  the  same 
thing  in  substance,  only  a  little  less  pungent  and  personal. 
In  it  the  whole  sermon  is  made  to  bear  on  the  duty  of  the 
moment.  It  should  be  closely  connected  with  what  went 
before;  for  a  general  exhortation,  fitting  the  end  of  every 
sermon,  cannot  well  apply  to  any.  All  the  sermon  should 
be  gathered  up,  as  it  were,  and  hurled  as  a  solid  mass  into 
the  hearts  and  consciences  of  those  whom  we  wish  to  affect, 
thus  making  it  a  real  "  thrust,"  of  which  the  exhortation  is 
the  barbed  point.  It  should  be  short,  and  no  new  matter 
introduced  at  the  time  the  audience  are  expecting  the  end. 

The  third  method  is  to  break  off  when  the  last  item  is 
finished.  If  the  lines  of  the  argument  are  few  and  simple,  or 
so  strong  that  they  cannot  fail  to  be  remembered,  there  is 
no  need  to  recapitulate  them.  And  if  the  exhortation  has 
kept  pace  with  the  progress  of  the  sermon,  there  is  no  place 
for  it  at  the  close.  If  both  these  coincide,  a  formal  conclu- 
sion would  be  a  superfluity.  It  is  only  necessary  to  finish 
the  development  of  the  plan,  care  being  taken  that  the  last 
idea  discussed  shall  be  one  of  dignity  and  importance.  This 
is  simply  stopping  when  done,  and  is  certainly  an  easy 
method  of  closing,  though,  in  practice,  too  often  neglected. 


CHAPTER    Y. 


AFTER    CONSIDERATIONS  —  SUCCESS  —  REST  —  IMPROVEMENT. 

WHEN  we  have  concluded  a  fervent  discourse,  especially 
if  successful,  there  comes  a  feeling  of  inexpressible  relief. 
For  the  burden  of  a  speech  accumulates  on  the  mind,  from 
the  time  the  subject  is  chosen,  until  it  grows  almost  intoler- 
able. When  we  begin  to  speak  all  our  powers  are  called 
into  play,  and  exerted  to  the  limit  of  their  capacity.  The 
excitement  of  the  conflict  hurries  us  on,  and  although  we 
may  not  realize  the  gigantic  exertions  we  put  forth,  yet 
when  we  pause,  with  the  victory  won,  the  sense  of  relief  and 
security  is  exceedingly  delightful.  Yet  we  must  not  indulge 
too  deeply  in  the  self-gratulation  so  natural  at  such  a  moment. 
If  we  have  conquered,  it  has  been  in  God's  name,  not  our 
own,  and  the  first  thing  to  be  done  is  to  offer  him  thanks 
for  our  preservation.  This  is  but  the  complement  of  the 
prayers  made  at  the  beginning  of  the  service,  for  if  we  ask 
help  with  fear  and  trembling,  before  the  real  perils  of  speech 
begin,  it  would  be  very  wrong,  in  the  hour  of  triumph,  to 
cease  to  remember  the  arm  upon  which  we  leaned.  But  by 
pouring  out  our  thankfulness  to  God,  we  are  at  the  same 
time  preserved  from  pride  and  undue  exultation,  and  encour- 
aged to  depend  upon  Him  more  fully  the  next  time  we  speak. 

If  the  effort  has  been  an  earnest  one,  both  mind  and  body 

need  rest.     There  are  speakers  who  profess  to  feel  no  fatigue 

after  an  hour's  labor,  but  these  seldom  occupy  a  place  in  the 

first  class.     If  the  soul  has  really  been  engaged,  and  all  the 

(115) 


116  EXTEMPORE  SPEAKING. 

powers  of  mind  and  body  bent  to  the  accomplishment  of  a 
great  object,  relaxation  must  follow,  and  often  a  sense  of 
utter  prostration.  It  is  well,  if  possible,  to  abandon  ones- 
self  to  the  luxury  of  rest — that  utter  repose  so  sweet  after 
severe  labor.  Even  social  intercourse  should  be  avoided. 
A  short  sleep,  even  if  only  for  a  few  minutes,  will  afford 
great  relief,  and  it  is  much  to  be  regretted  that  circum- 
stances so  often  interfere  with  the  enjoyment  of  such  a 
luxury.  After  the  morning  service,  especially  if  the  minis- 
ter has  to  preach  again  in  the  evening,  all  labor,  even  in  the 
Sabbath-school,  should  be  avoided,  although,  before  preach- 
ing, such  toil  will  only  form  a  grateful  introduction  to  the 
duties  of  the  day.  No  practice  is  more  pernicious  than  that 
of  inviting  the  minister  to  meet  company,  at  dinner-parties 
or  elsewhere,  immediately  after  service.  This  is  objection- 
able for  two  reasons;  the  conversation  at  such  parties  sel- 
dom accords  with  the  sanctity  of  the  Sabbath,  and  if  unex- 
ceptionable in  this  respect,  a  continued  tax  is  made  upon 
the  already  exhausted  brain — a  tax  greater  during  such  a 
state  of  relaxation  and  languor,  than  ten-fold  the  labor 
would  be  at  another  period.  Let  the  preacher,  when  he 
can,  retire  to  the  privacy  of  his  own  home,  and  there  enjoy 
the  freedom  of  untrammelled  rest. 

It  is  well  to  ponder  closely  the  lessons  derived  from  each 
new  experience  in  speaking.  The  minister  can  never  exactly 
measure  his  own  success,  and  may  often  lament  as  a  failure 
that  effort  which  has  accomplished  great  good.  He  has  in 
his  mind  an  ideal  of  excellence  by  which  he  estimates  his  ser- 
mons. If  this  be  placed  very  low,  he  may  succeed  in  com- 
ing up  to  it,  or  even  pass  beyond  it,  without  accomplishing 
anything  worthy  of  praise.  But  in  such  a  case  he  is  apt  to 
be  well  satisfied  with  the  result.  And  often  the  sermons 
with  which  we  are  least  pleased,  are  really  the  best.  For 
in  the  mightiest  efforts  of  mind  the  standard  is  placed  very 
high — sometimes  beyond  the  limit  of  possible  attainment, 
and  the  speaker  works  with  his  eye  fixed  upon  the  summit, 
and  often,  after  all  his  exertions,  sees  it  shining  above  him 


AFTER   CONSIDERATIONS.  117 

still,  and  closes  with  the  conviction  that  his  ideas  are  but 
half  expressed.  He  feels  mortified  that  there  should  be  such 
difference  between  conception  and  execution.  But  his 
hearers,  who  have  been  led  over  untrodden  fields  of  thought, 
know  nothing  of  the  heights  still  above  the  orator's  head, 
and  are  filled  with  enthusiasm,  or  have  received  new  im- 
pulses to  good.  This  is  the  reason  why  we  are  least  able  to 
judge  of  the  success  of  sermons  that  have  been  long  medi- 
tated, and  are  thoroughly  prepared.  The  subject  expands 
as  we  study  it,  and  its  outlines  become  grander  and  vaster, 
until  they  pass  beyond  our  power  of  representation.  And 
each  separate  thought  that  is  mastered  also  becomes  familiar, 
and  is  not  valued  at  its  full  worth  by  the  speaker.  If  he  had 
began  to  speak  without  thought,  intending  to  give  only  the 
easy  and  common  views  of  his  subject,  all  would  have  been 
fresh  to  him,  and  if  a  striking  idea  presented  itself,  its  nov- 
elty would  have  enhanced  its  appreciation.  This  is  no  rea- 
son against  diligent  preparation,  but  rather  a  strong  argu- 
ment in  favor  of  it.  It  should  only  stimulate  us  to  improve 
our  powers  of  expression  as  well  as  of  conception. 

But  with  all  these  sources  of  uncertainty  in  our  judgment 
of  our  own  productions,  we  should  not  be  indifferent  to  our 
perceptions  of  success  or  failure.  In  the, greater  number  of 
instances  will  be  correct,  and  we  can  very  frequently  dis- 
cover the  cause  of  either,  and  use  this  knowledge  to  future 
profit. 

Even  if  we  imagine  our  failure  to  be  extreme,  we  have  no 
need  to  feel  unduly  discouraged.  God  can,  and  does,  often 
work  with  the  feeblest  instruments,  and  the  sermon  we 
despise  may  accomplish  its  purpose.  The  writer  preached 
one  evening  when  very  weary,  and  almost  unprepared.  From 
first  to  last  a  painful  effort  was  required  to  find  anything  to 
say,  and  to  prevent  utter  failure  the  intended  plan  had  to 
be  abandoned,  and  new,  detached  thoughts  thrown  in  as 
they  could  be  found.  And  yet  that  discourse,  which  was 
scarcely  worthy  of  the  name,  elicited  warmer  approval,  and 
apparently  accomplished  more  good,  than  any  one  from  the 


118  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 

same  preacher  ever  given  at  that  point.  But  such  instances 
should  never  lead  us  to  neglect  all  the  preparation  in  our 
power,  for  usually  when  failure  springs  from  a  real  defect, 
the  verdict  of  the  people  will  coincide  with  our  own. 

However  we  may  judge  of  our  success  it  is  not  wise  to 
ask  any  of  our  hearers  for  their  opinion.  We  may  observe 
any  indications  of  the  effect  produced,  and,  if  the  criticisms 
of  others  are  offered  spontaneously,  it  is  not  necessary  to 
repulse  them,  especially  if  they  are  marked  by  a  spirit  of 
candor  and  good  will ;  but  all  seeking  for  commendation  is 
debasing.  It  is  sweet  to  hear  our  sermons  praised,  and  most 
of  men  can  endure  an  amount  of  flattery  addressed  to  them- 
selves, that  would  be  disgusting  if  applied  to  others  ;  but  if 
we  indulge  this  disposition  it  will  become  ungovernable,  and 
expose  us  to  well-deserved  ridicule.  It  is  pitiable  to  see  a 
man  who  is  mighty  in  word  and  thought,  who  wields  the 
vast  powers  of  eloquence,  stooping  to  beg  crusts  of  indis- 
criminate praise  from  his  hearers.  Nothing  contributes  more 
to  destroy  our  influence,  and  make  our  audience  believe  that 
we  are  merely  actors,  unaffected  by  the  sublime  truths  we 
declare. 

It  is  well  to  think  over  our  sermons  after  they  have  been 
preached,  and  if  any  defect  appear,  amend  it  in  the  plan, 
and  add  all  the  new  ideas  that  may  have  been  suggested  dur- 
ing speech.  This  prepares  us  to  preach  still  better  when  we 
have  occasion  to  use  the  same  plan  a  second  time. 

Some  ministers  are  accustomed  to  write  their  sermons 
after  delivery.  This  may  do  well,  especially  when  the  theme 
is  of  great  importance,  but  in  general,  it  is  questionable 
whether  the  advantage  is  great  enough  to  warrant  the  ex- 
penditure of  so  much  time. 

But  to  review  and  correct  a  verbatim  report  of  our  ser- 
mons would  be  far  more  profitable.  If  some  short-hand 
writer — a  member  of  our  family,  or  any  other  who  is  willing 
to  take  so  much  trouble — will  preserve  our  words  for  us,  a 
revisal  of  them  on  Monday  would  be  of  immense  benefit. 
The  offensiveness  of  pet  phrases,  which  we  might  otherwise 


AFTER    CONSIDERATIONS.  119 

be  unconscious  of  for  years,  would  be  detected  at  once. 
Faults  of  expression,  and  especially  the  profuseness  of  words, 
in  which  extempore  speakers  are  apt  to  indulge,  would  be 
forced  upon  our  notice ;  and  if  any  really  valuable  ideas 
occurred,  they  could  be  preserved.  There  would  be  little 
use  in  writing  the  sermon  over  in  full,  for  we  would  com- 
monly find  that  it  might  be  reduced  to  one-third  or  one- 
fourth  its  bulk  without  material  injury.  The  habitual  con- 
densation of  our  sermons  after  delivery,  would  teach  us  to 
express  our  thoughts  compactly  even  in  speech. 

The  only  difficulty  in  applying  this  capital  means  of  im- 
provement, is  the  small  number  of  persons  who  can  write 
short-hand  with  sufficient  rapidity — a  difficulty  that  may  be 
less  in  the  future  than  it  has  been  in  the  past,  and  can  now 
be  obviated  by  the  minister's  wife  or  daughters,  who  may 
have  sufficient  perseverance  and  devotion  to  master  the 
laborious,  but  precious  art  for  his  sake. 


PART  III. 


MISCELLANEOUS  ADDRESSES. 


CHAPTER  I. 


INSTRUCTIVE      ADDEESS. 

WE  will  give  only  a  brief  consideration  to  the  various 
fields  of  oratory  outside  the  pulpit,  because  the  greater  num- 
ber of  principles  already  laid  down  can  be  applied,  with 
slight  modifications,  to  any  kind  of  speech.  The  different 
varieties  of  secular  address  may  be  divided  as  follows : 

I.  Instructive  Oratory. 
II.  Legal  " 

III.  Deliberative     " 

IV.  Popular  " 
Y.  Controversial    " 

We  apply  the  first  term  to  all  oral  teaching,  more  con- 
nected than  question  and  answer,  and  to  all  lectures  that 
have  instruction  for  their  primary  object.  This  species  of 
discourse  differs  from  the  sermon  in  the  absence,  of  persua- 
sion, rather  than  in  its  positive  character.  The  lecturer 
should  thoroughly  understand  the  topic  he  attempts  to  unfold, 
and  place  it  in  the  clearest  possible  light.  Much  illustra- 
tion is  needed,  for  the  subject  is  usually  a  novel  one  to  the 
greater  portion  of  the  audience,  and  can  be  best  explained 
by  comparison  with  familiar  objects.  It  should  have  its 
strong  central  points,  which  can  be  easily  remembered,  and 
around  which  the  minor  parts  of  the  discourse  may  be 
grouped,  for  if  the  whole  consist  of  isolated  facts  poured 

(123) 


124  EXTEMPORE  SPEAKING. 

forth  without  generalization  or  arrangement,  no  distinct  im- 
pression will  be  left. 

Appeals  to  passion  and  emotion  are  less  necessary  in  lec- 
tures than  in  most  other  kinds  of  speech.  Yet  so  closely 
are  heart  and  intellect  connected,  that  we  can  arouse  atten- 
tion, and  secure  a  more  durable  result,  if  the  facts  we  nar- 
rate are  linked  with  the  experiences  and  emotions  of  life. 

The  practice  of  writing  is  even  more  prevalent  when 
applied  to  lectures  than  to  sermons,  and  the  reasons  urged 
in  its  favor  have  more  plausibility.  As  the  lecturer  does  not 
aim  to  move  his  hearers  to  immediate  action,  the  advantauvs 
of  direct  address  are  less  required.  Still  he  wishes  to  inter- 
est them,  and  it  may  be  questioned  whether  this  can,  in  any 
case,  be  so  well  accomplished  from  manuscript.  But  it  is 
urged  that  in  a  scientific  lecture  there  are  often  too  great  a 
number  of  detached  facts  to  be  easily  remembered.  This 
may  be  true,  but  it  suggests  another  important  question :  if 
they  cannot  be  recalled  by  the  speaker  wlio  has  reviewed 
them  again  and  again  for  days  together,  how  can  it  be 
expected  that  those  who  only  hear  them  read  over  once,  will 
retain  any  distinct  impression  ?  A  clearer  generalization  of 
the  whole  discourse,  and  a  proper  arrangement  of  each  fact 
under  the  principle  which  it  illustrates,  would  go  far  to 
obviate  both  difficulties.  Yet,  in  the  use  of  statistics  or 
other  items,  about  which  the  speaker  wishes  to  be  precise, 
though  lie  may  only  care  to  give  the  audience  a  general  con- 
ception of  them,  notes  will  be  a  great  relief  to  the  memory, 
and  the  statement  of  principles  deduced  can  be  still  made  in 
direct  address. 

After  a  man  has  become  so  famous  that  each  word  he 
utters  will  be  listened  to  with  profound  attention,  because  it 
comes  from  him,  he  may  write  safely.  This  is  especially  the 
case  with  those  who  have  become  authorities  in  their  own 
departments  of  knowledge.  What  they  say  is  received 
rather  as  a  conclusion  to  argument,  than  as  an  assertion  to  la- 
weighed,  and  the  calm,  deliberate  reading  of  such  final  state- 
ments has  all  needed  inipressiveness.  But  if  we  have  not 


INSTRUCTIVE   ADDRESS.  125 

attained  this  position,  we  had  better  employ  every  legiti- 
mate means  to  interest  our  audiences. 

It  is  often  claimed  by  the  advocates  of  reading,  that  a 
literary  lecture  must  be  written  to  secure  the  polish  and 
smoothness  needful  in  the  treatment  of  such  themes.  It 
will  not  do,  say  they,  to  give,  in  our  words  and  manner,  an 
illustration  of  the  absence  of  the  very  qualities  we  praise. 
But  surely  men  can  speak  on  a  subject  they  understand  in 
good  grammar  and  fitting  language,  without  having  first 
placed  each  word  on  paper !  And  if  they  attempt  much 
beyond  this  they  lead  the  mind  of  the  hearer  from  the  sub- 
ject to  a  consideration  of  the  skill  of  the  lecturer.  We  are 
ready  to  grant  that  compositions  should  be  read,  not  spoken, 
when  ever  they  cease  to  instruct  about  something  else,  and 
become  an  exhibition  in  themselves.  A  poet  is  right  in 
reading  his  poem ;  and  even  in  prose,  if  we  wish  to  call 
attention  to  our  melodious  words,  and  our  skill  in  literary 
composition,  instead  of  the  subject  we  have  nominally  taken, 
it  will  be  well  to  write.  But  the  resulting  composition  will 
not  be  a  lecture. 

The  field  for  instructive  lectures  is  constantly  enlarging. 
In  former  times  they  were  monopolized  by  university  pro- 
fessors, and  very  few  persons  sought  to  teach  the  people. 
But  this  has  changed.  There  are  now  many  more  schools 
where  courses  of  lectures  are  given  on  various  topics,  and 
every  town  of  any  pretention  has  its  annual  lecture  course. 
Even  these  are  not  sufficient  to  meet  the  increasing  demand, 
and,  as  every  community  cannot  pay  Beecher  or  Gough  from 
one  to  five  hundred  dollars  for  an  evening's  entertainment, 
there  is  abundant  scope  for  humbler  talent.  Strolling  lec- 
turers, without  character  or  knowledge,  reap  a  rich  harvest 
from  the  credulity  of  the  people.  Even  the  noble  science 
of  phrenology  is  often  disgraced  by  quacks,  who  perambu- 
late the  country  and  pretend  to  explain  its  mysteries — some- 
times telling  character  and  fortunes  at  the  same  time.  So 
far  has  this  prostitution  of  talent  and  opportunity  gone,  that 
the  village  lecturer  is  often  placed  in  a  category  with  circus 


126  EXTEMPOEE  SPEAKING. 

clowns  and  negro  minstrels.  But  this  should  not  be,  and  no 
class  could  do  more  to  prevent  it  than  the  clergy.  If  they 
would  each  prepare  a  lecture  or  two  upon  some  important 
subject  they  have  mastered,  they  could  extend  their  useful- 
ness, and  teach  others  besides  their  own  flocks. 

Lecturers  are  becoming  more  numerous  and  popular.  ISTew 
sciences  and  arts  are  continually  springing  into  being,  and 
there  is  no  way  that  a  knowledge  of  them  can  be  so  readily 
diffused  among  the  masses  of  the  people,  as  by  public  ad- 
dresses upon  them.  Even  the  oldest  of  the  sciences — As- 
tronomy— has  been  brought  to  the  knowledge  of  thousands 
who  otherwise  would  have  remained  in  ignorance  of  its  mys- 
teries. It  was  thus  that  the  lamented  General  O.  M.  Mitchel 
succeeded  in  awakening  public  interest,  and  in  securing  funds 
for  the  erection  of  his  observatory  at  Cincinnati. 

Benefit  lectures  are  very  common.  In  these  the  services 
of  the  lecturer  are  given  gratis,  or  for  a  nominal  compensa- 
tion, and  persons  are  induced  to  purchase  tickets  that  some 
good  cause  may  be  benefited  by  the  proceeds.  This  is  the 
most  pleasant  of  compromises,  and  is  surely  better  than  fairs, 
gift  drawings,  etc.,  although  when  the  patronage  of  the  pub- 
lic is  thus  secured  for  a  lecture  that  has  no  real  merit,  the 
benefit  is  more  questionable. 

The  most  important  point  in  a  lecture  is  that  the  subject 
be  thoroughly  understood,  and  so  arranged  that  there  may 
be  no  difficulty  in  grasping  the  whole  thought.  Vivacity 
and  life  will  prevent  the  audience  from  growing  weary  ;  wit, 
if  it  be  true  and  delicate,  will  add  to  the  interest,  and  has  a 
far  larger  legitimate  sphere  than  in  a  sermon.  Ornaments, 
too,  may  abound,  provided  they  do  not  call  attention  aVay 
from  the  subject,  or  weaken  the  force  of  expression.  The 
plan  of  a  lecture  may  be  constructed  in  a  manner  similar  to 
that  of  a  sermon,  as  the  end  in  view  is  not  very  different. 
If  this  be  well  arranged,  and  all  the  principles,  facts  and 
illustrations  be  properly  placed,  no  need  of  writing  will  be 
felt. 


CHAPTER    H. 

MISCELLANEOUS    ADDRESS LEGAL DELIBERATE POPULAR 

—  CONTROVERSIAL. 

THE  speech  adapted  to  the  bench  and  bar  presents  some 
peculiar  features.  The  lawyer  deals  with  facts  and  living 
issues.  He  works  for  immediate  results,  and  therefore  uses 
the  means  best  adapted  to  secure  them.  The  use  of  manu- 
script, which  increases  in  proportion  as  we  remove  from  the 
sphere  of  passion,  finds  no  place  when  life  and  property  are 
at  stake.  The  lawyer  who  would  read  his  appeal  to  the 
jury  in  an  exciting  case,  would  have  few  others  to  make. 
At  the  bar  the  penalty  for  inefficiency  is  so  rapid  and  cer- 
tain, that  every  nerve  is  strained  to  avoid  it.  To  argue 
with  a  lawyer  against  the  use  of  written  discourses,  would  be 
like  proving  the  advantage  of  commerce  to  an  Englishman. 
His  danger  lies  in  the  opposite  direction — that  of  caring  too 
little  for  polish,  and  of  making  the  verdict  of  the  jury  his 
only  aim. 

A  lawyer  should  never -contend  for  what  he  believes  to  be 
wrong.  Yet  the  common  estimate  of  the  morality  of 
attorneys  is  not  based  on  fact.  They  may  have  greater 
temptations  than  some  others,  and  many  of  them  may  fall, 
but  another  reason  than  this  accounts  for  the  grave  imputa- 
tions cast  on  them.  In  every  suit,  at  least  one  party  must 
be  disappointed,  and  it  is  natural  that,  in  his  bitterness,  he 
should  throw  discredit  on  all  the  agencies  by  which  his 
hopes  were  destroyed.  But  this  is  most  frequently  ground- 
less. The  lawyer  may  be  counsel  for  a  man  whom  he  knows 
to  be  in  the  wrong,  but  he  ought  never  to  take  his  stand  on 

(127) 


128  EXTEMPORE  SPEAKING. 

a  false  position.  He  may  show  any  weakness  in  his  adver- 
sary's case,  and  see  that  all  the  provisions  of  the  law  are 
faithfully  coraplie'd  with,  but  must  not  endeavor  to  distort 
the  truth.  An  adherence  to  this  determination  will  soon 
give  his  words  a  power  and  influence  that  will  more  than 
counterbalance  all  disadvantages.  Let  him  seek  for  the 
strong  points  in  his  own  case,  and  then  throw  them  into  the 
simplest  and  boldest  shape,  not  forgetting  the  importance 
of  appealing  to  the  heart,  as  well  as  head,  of  judge  and  jury. 

The  judge  differs  from  the  advocate  in  having  both  sides 
of  the  case  to  present,  and  in  seeking  truth  rather  than  vic- 
tory. As  he  stands  upon  the  law,  and  unfolds  its  dictates, 
which  are  obeyed  as  soon  as  known,  he  has  no  need  to  appeal 
to  passion,  and  can  give  his  words  with  all  calmness  and 
certainty. 

Under  the  most  absolute  monarchy  there  are  always  some 
things  that  men  are  left  to  settle  according  to  their  own 
pleasure,  and  when  a  number  of  persons  have  equal  interest 
and  authority  this  can  only  be  done  by  discussion.  In  our 
own  land  the  people  bear  rule,  and  the  field  of  deliberation 
is  almost  infinitely  widened.  City  councils,  State  and  na- 
tional legislatures,  the  governing  societies  of  churches,  par- 
ties, companies,  and  all  organizations,  have  more  or  less  of 
power  to  be  exercised.  If  this  were  vested  in  a  single  will, 
silent  pondering  would  determine  each  question,  but  in  assem- 
blies these  must  be  decided  by  discussion,  argument  and  vote.* 

There  is  ofle  general  peculiarity  that  marks  the  speeches 
addressed  to  such  a  body ;  their  main  object  is  to  give  infor- 
mation. All  are  about  to  act,  and  are  supposed  to  be  diligently 
looking  for  the  best  course  to  be  taken.  This  secures  an 
interest  in  everything  that  really  throws  new  light  on  the 
subject,  while  it  often  renders  such  an  assemblage  intolerant 
of  mere  declamation.  In  representative  bodies  there  is  also 
constant  reference  to  the  opinions  and  wishes  of  those  for 
whom  they  act. 

*•  See  rules  for  these  in  Appendix. 


MISCELLANEOUS   ADDRESS.  129 

Such  speeches  are  frequently  intended  to  be  read  beyond 
the  bounds  of  the  audience  where  they  are  delivered,  and 
for  this  reason  are  often  elaborately  prepared,  and  read  at 
first.  If  they  do  truly  give  information,  either  in  reference 
to  principles  or  facts,  they  suffer  from  this  less  than  any 
other  class  of  addresses.  They  may  be  dry  and  unattractive 
in  form,  but  if  each  concerned,  feels  that  he  is  obtaining  new 
facts  for  guidance,  he  will  listen  with  patience.  Yet,  even 
then,  a  greater  impression  would  be  produced  if  the  same 
accuracy  and  sureness  of  statement  were  embodied  in  spoken 
words.  Let  there  first,  be  broad,  statesmanlike  views,  a  clear 
comprehension  of  the  effects  of  measures,  and  perfect  confi- 
dence in  what  we  advocate,  and  then  all  the  graces  of  speech 
may  be  added  with  the  certainty  that  their  effect  will  be  that 
always  produced  by  true  eloquence. 

A  popular  address  differs  from  a  lecture  in  having  an  ele- 
ment of  persuasion  in  it.  In  fact,  this  is  its  principal  char- 
acteristic. When  we  desire  to  incline  the  hearts  of  the  peo- 
ple to  some  favorite  cause,  we  assemble  them  together,  and 
labor  by  all  the  arguments  we  can  command,  to  induce  them 
to  adopt  our  views  and  enter  on  the  course  we  recommend. 
Energy  and  earnestness  are  the  qualities  most  uniformly 
successful.  The  people  care  little  for  the  subtile  niceties  of 
speech,  but  they  require  that  the  man  who  addresses  them 
should  believe  what  he  says,  and  feel  the  power  of  his  own 
reasoning.  A  deep,  strong,  unfaltering  conviction  is  always 
an  element  of  strength. 

Many  speakers  think  it  an  advantage  to  adopt  with  the 
prejudices  of  the  people,  but  they  are  mistaken.  Temporary 
applause  may  be  won,  but  second  thoughts  are  apt  to  detect 
the  lurking  insincerity,  even  if  they  do  not  overthrow  the 
prejudice  itself.  If  the  speaker  be  really  under  the  influence 
of  the  same  misconception  as  the  audience,  this  is  a  different 
matter,  for  hearty  devotion,  even  to  the  wrong,  is  contagious. 
But  calm  reasoning  and  truth  are  always  best.  These  gave 
Abraham  Lincoln  the  superiority  over  Stephen  A.  Douglas, 
making  him  more  effective  with  the  people  than  the  latter 


130  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 

was,  notwithstanding  his  fervid  eloquence.  The  one  appealed 
to  the  reason  of  the  people,  the  other  to  passion. 

Humor  has  its  place  in  the  popular  address  not  second  to 
any  other  quality.  A  telling  anecdote,  or  a  good  illustration 
(the  homelier  the  better,  if  it  be  not  coarse),  will  arrest  atten- 
tion and  dwell  longer  on  the  memory,  than  the  strongest 
argument. 

Controversial  oratory  partakes  of  the  nature  of  a  battle, 
but  should  be  something  more  than  strife  for  victory.  There 
is  little  danger  of  languid  attention  in  this  species  of  ad- 
dress, for  opposition  arouses  both  speaker  and  hearer. 

The  golden  rule  in  all  controversies,  is  to  be  certain  of  a 
solid  basis  of  fact,  and  follow  the  guidance  of  true  princi- 
ples. Then  we  deserve  success.  But  fair  means  only  should 
be  employed.  It  is  so  hard  to  see  an  adversary  triumph  even, 
when  convinced  of  the  correctness  of  his  position,  that  we 
can  scarcely  forbear  employing  every  artifice  to  prevent  such 
a  result.  But  we  should  never  misrepresent  our  opponent. 
Even  if  he  has  been  unfortunate  in  his  explanations,  and 
leaves  the  way  open  for  a  natural  misconception,  we  should 
use  our  best  efforts  to  understand  what  he  really  means,  and 
give  him  the  credit  of  that.  We  must  also  allow  his  reason- 
ing its  due  force.  No  just  argument  ought  ever  to  be  weak- 
ened. Let  us  bring  forward  our  views,  and,  if  possible, 
show  that  they  are  truer  and  more  firmly  based  than  his. 
And  if  we  see  that  this  cannot  be  done,  there  is  only  one 
manly  course  left — to  surrender  at  discretion.  If  we  cannot 
maintain  our  views  by  clear  proof,  we  should  abandon  them, 
and  seek  others  that  need  no  questionable  support. 


PART  IV. 


EMINENT   EXTEMPORE   SPEAKERS. 

AUGUSTINE  —  LUTHER  —  CHATHAM  —  PITT  —  BURKE  —  MIRABEAU 
PATRICK   HENRY  —  WHITEFIELD  —  WESLEY  —  SIDNEY   SMITH  — 
P.   W.   ROBERTSON  —  CLAY  —  BASCOM  —  SUMMERFIELD  — 
SPDRGEON  —  H.  W.  BEECHER  —  BINGHAM  —  GLAD- 
STONE—SIMPSON—WENDELL PHILLIPS  — 
J.  P.  DURBIN. 


EMINENT  SPEAKERS. 


USE     OF     EXAMPLES. 

NOTWITHSTANDING  the  popularity  of  unwritten  speech, 
and  the  innumerable  arguments  in  its  favor,  there  is  an  im- 
pression in  some  quarters  that  the  very  highest  excellence 
cannot  be  attained  without  the  previous  use  of  the  pen.  It 
may  be  shown  that  it  is  more  natural  to  find  the  words  in 
which  our  thoughts  are  clothed  at  the  moment  of  expres- 
sion ;  that  a  stronger  and  better  frame-work  of  thought  can 
be  constructed,  if  the  mind,  in  preparing  for  speech,  is  occu- 
pied with  that  alone  ;  that  the  speaker  and  hearer  may  thus 
be  brought  into  closer  union  ;  that  this,  in  short,  is  the 
order  of  nature,  which  leaves  the  solid  frame-work  of  the 
tree  standing  through  many  winters,  but  each  spring  be- 
stows its  graceful  robe  of  leaves  upon  -that  which  was  pre- 
pared to  receive  it.  But  this  is  not  enough  to  produce 
lasting  conviction.  It  is  still  maintained,  almost  with 
obstinacy,  that  in  the  highest  fields  of  oratory,  words  must 
be  previously  chosen,  fitted  together,  and  polished. 

This  nearly  every  speech-writer  proves  from  his  own  ex- 
perience. The  efforts  that  have  afforded  him  most  satisfac- 
tion were  those  in  which  nothing  had  been  left  to  the  chance  of 
the  moment.  But  it  is  easy  to  see  how  even  experience  may 
mislead  in  this  particular.  We  can  judge  the  comparative 
merits  of  another  in  his  different  modes  of  address  with  some 
approach  to  accuracy,  for  our  mental  state — that  of  listeners — 
continues  the  same  under  them  all.  But  it  is  different  when 
we  judge  ourselves.  When  wre  extemporize,  our  best  ex- 

(133) 


134  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 

pressions  fade  from  the  mind  after  they  have  been  given 
forth,  and  can  only  be  recalled  by  a  strong  effort.  On  the 
other  hand,  when  we  have  wrought  our  language  slowly, 
and  lingered  over  each  sentence,  we  see  all  the  beauty  it 
contains,  and  begin  to  admire  our  own  production.  If  we 
see  anything  faulty,  instead  of  lamenting  it,  as  we  would  an 
unfortunate,  spoken  sentence,  we  change  it,  and  take  credit 
for  the  keenness  of  our  critical  taste.  Is  it  wonderful  that 
when  we  come  before  an  audience  with  an  address  made  as 
nearly  perfect  as  we  can  construct  it  in  every  line,  and  the 
whole  clearly  written,  or  firmly  engraved  on  the  memory, 
and  then  repeat  it,  with  a  full  appreciation  of  each  beauty  as 
we  pass  along,  that  we  consider  it  to  be  of  far  higher 
merit  than  the  impassioned  torrent  poured  forth  on  another 
occasion,  when  we  scarcely  knew  that  we  were  using  words 
at  all  ?  If  the  people  do  not  seem  to  appreciate  it,  their  want 
of  taste  and  culture  affords  a  ready  excuse  for  them,  even  if 
the  speaker  is  not  too  much  occupied  with  his  own  eloquence 
to  notice  them  at  all.  He  is  always  ready,  too,  with  the 
examples  of  Massillon  and  Bossuet,  or  of  Chalmers,  to 
prove  that  it  was  thus  the  most  powerful  orators  spoke. 

We  do  not  deny  that  great  effects  may  be  produced,  under 
certain  circumstances,  by  committed  words.  The  fact  that 
many  actors  have  won  great  fame  by  repeating  the  words  of 
others,  proves  how  much  may  be  done  in  this  direction.  It 
is  but  reasonable,  that  if  some  gifted  minds  can  thrill  an 
audience  to  tears,  and  rouse  every  feeling  to  its  highest  bent 
by  merely  copying  others,  that  those  who,  in  addition  to  this 
ability,  possess  the  power  of  framing  their  own  thoughts  in 
suitable  words,  may  accomplish  as  much.  John  B.  Gough 
is  an  instance  of  the  power  that  may  be  wielded  in  this  man- 
ner. But  such  men  cannot  occupy  the  highest  position  in 
the  temple  of  fame.  They  are  but  actors.  When  they  speak 
they  will  be  listened  to  with  eagerness  and  pleasure,  as 
great  performers  always  are,  but  it  will  be  as  performers 
rather  than  as  authorities.  They  have  placed  themselves  on 
a  level  with  those  who  deal  in  unreal  things,  and  there 


EMINENT   SPEAKERS.  135 

they  must  be  content  to  remain.  Doubtless  it  is  more  noble 
to  speak  the  sentiments  and  feelings  that  we  once  possessed, 
in  the  language  adapted  to  that  time,  than  to  deal  in  those 
belonging  to  another  person,  but  the  resemblance  between 
the  two  is  very  close,  and  the  people  feel  it  so  acutely  that 
they  make  no  discrimination. 

But  we  maintain  that  even  in  momentary  effect — the 
quality  which  is  supposed  to  belong  peculiarly  to  the  pow- 
erful declamation  of  prepared  language — extempore  speak- 
ers have  passed  beyond  all  others  ;  while  in  power  of  thought 
and  lasting  influence,  there  can  be  no  comparison.  There  is 
no  single  quality  of  speech  that  cannot  be  reached  as  well 
without  writing  as  with  it,  while  perpetual  readiness,  vast 
and  profound  knowledge  (which  writing  extensively  leaves 
no  time  to  acquire),  and  weight  and  authority  with  the  peo- 
ple, belong  almost  exclusively  to  the  extemporizer. 

These  assertions  may  seem  bold  to  many,  but  we  are  pre- 
pared to  substantiate  them.  In  the  preceding  pages  we 
have  aimed  to  show  how  this  species  of  address  may  be  ac- 
quired, and  improved  to  an  almost  unlimited  degree.  The 
ideal  thus  sketched  is  not  an  impossible  or  imaginary  one. 
It  has  often  been  attained,  and  for  the  encouragement  of 
those  who  may  be  disposed  to  throw  away  their  manuscripts, 
and  trust  to  the  method  of  nature,  the  following  examples 
are  selected.  These  are  chosen  because  of  their  eminence, 
and  also  because  of  the  wide  variety  of  qualities  displayed 
in  their  eloquence.  Many  more  might  be  given,  but  these 
are  sufficient  for  our  purpose,  which  is  to  show  that  in  every 
department  of  speech  the  highest  eloquence  that  ever  flowed 
from  the  lips"  of  men  has  clothed  itself  in  unpremeditated 
words. 

In  these  sketches  we,  of  course,  make  no  pretention  to 
originality,  but  have  compiled  what  was  adapted  to  our 
purpose  from  every  available  source.  And  as  the  matter  so 
obtained  has  been  frequently  abridged,  and  two  or  three  differ- 
ent accounts  woven  together,  it  has  sometimes  been  impos- 
sible to  give  full  credit.  We  are  under  especial  obligation  to 


136  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 

the  "  New  American  Cyclopedia,"  Mosheim's  Church  History, 
Stephens's  History  of  Methodism,  Harsha's  "Orators  and 
Statesmen,"  "  Kidder's  Homiletics,"  with  the  current  biog- 
raphies of  the  speakers  treated  of. 

Much  of  the  oratory  of  antiquity  was  recited.  This  has 
been  used  as  an  argument  to  prove  the  comparative  inferior- 
ity of  that  speech  which  is  the  offspring  of  the  moment, 
forgetting  the  great  difference  between  ancient  and  modern 
life — a  difference  arising  from  the  greater  diversity  of  the 
latter,  and  the  nobler  aims  to  which  it  gives  birth.  The 
typical  Grecian  oration  is  as  much  a  work  of  art  as  a  statue. 
It  was  made  to  be  admired,  and  if,  by  the  beauty  of  its  ar- 
rangement, the  melody  of  its  language,  and  the  elegance  of 
its  delivery,  this  object  was  achieved,  the  orator  was  satis- 
fied. It  was  so,  to  a  less  degree,  in  the  classic  age  of  Rome. 
The  form  of  the  oration  was  of  greater  importance  than  its 
matter,  and  it  was  judged  that  this  would  be  best  perfected 
by  the  use  of  the  pen,  and  of  the  memory.  Yet  the  prac- 
tice of  antiquity  on  this  point  was  far  from  uniform.  Some 
of  the  noblest  orators  spoke  extempore,  and  have  less  fame 
than  those  who  adopted  the  opposite  plan,  only  because  at 
that  time  the  art  of  reporting  was  too  imperfect  to  preserve 
their  eloquence.  The  effect  they  produced  remains,  and 
from  it  we  obtain  a  faint  view  of  their  greatness.  Pericles 
spoke  without  previous  writing,  and  the  sway  his  speech 
established  over  his  countrymen  was  more  undisputed  than 
that  of  Demosthenes.  The  latter  had  an  assemblage  of 
talents  that,  with  his  tireless  industry,  would  have  made 
him  eminent  in  any  mode  of  address  that  he  might  have 
adopted  ;  but  even  he  did  not  recite  exclusively. 

The  great  rival  of  Cicero,  Hortensius,  whose  wonderful 
power  excited  the  emulation  of  the  former,  spoke  from  the 
impulse  of  the  moment,  as  did  many  of  the  more  eminent  of 
the  Roman  orators.  Cicero  was  a  man  of  tireless  energy. 
He  applied  himself  to  the  study  and  practice  of  eloquence 
with  a  singleness  of  aim,  and  a  concentration  of  purpose  that 
may  well  command  our  admiration.  He  accumulated  vast 


EMINENT   SPEAKERS.  137 

stores  of  knowledge,  perfected  his  logic,  and  improved  his 
voice  until  it  became  music,  and  brought  all  the  resources  of 
a  mighty  mind  to  bear  on  oratory.  It  is  not  wonderful  that 
he  was  listened  to  with  profound  attention,  while  he  recited 
what  he  had  previously  composed.  But  some  of  his  most 
brilliant  passages  were  extemporaneous.  The  outburst  that 
overwhelmed  Cataline  when  he  unexpectedly  appeared  in  the 
senate,  was  coined,  at  white  heat,  by  the  passion  of  the  mo- 
ment. 

The  reason  why  so  many  of  the  ancients  committed  their 
speeches,  was  because  they  could  not  be  preserved  other- 
wise, unless  the  orator  could  remember  and  write  down 
what  he  had  said.  Every  unwritten  speech  perished,  and 
left  nothing  but  a  dim  memory  of  the  results  it  had  pro- 
duced. This  is  the  reason  why  the  extempore  speakers 
of  the  ancient  world  are  less  known  than  the  reciters.  But 
the  art  of  short-hand  has  effected  a  revolution  in  this  par- 
ticular, and  the  most  impassioned  speeches  are  now  photo- 
graphed for  the  admiration  of  future  generations.  The  man 
who  wishes  his  speech  preserved  is  no  longer  compelled  to 
write  it. 

EARLY  PREACHING  IN  THE  CHURCH. 

We  may  be  sure  that  the  preaching  of  Christ  and  the 
Apostles  was  without  notes.  It  seems  scarcely  less  than 
profanation  to  picture  even  the  latter  as  reading  from  a  pre- 
viously prepared  manuscript,  after  they  had  been  promised 
the  help  of  the  Spirit  in  the  hour  when  help  was  needed ;  and 
it  is  inconceivable  that  the  Saviour  should  have  taken  any 
other  mode  of  imparting  His  wisdom  to  men,  than  that  of 
direct  address.  Paul  deprecated  the  eloquence  of  mere 
words,  although  the  sketch  of  his  sermon  on  Mars'  Hill, 
with  other  addresses,  shows  that  he  did  not  neglect  the  elo- 
quence of  thought,  and  the  strength  of  orderly,  logical 
arrangement.  We  have  no  direct  evidence  of  the  manner  of 
preaching  in  the  first  century,  but  from  all  intimations  we 
are  led  to  conclude  that  sermons  were  composed  without  the 


138  EXTEMPORE  SPEAKING. 

use  of  the  pen,  and  consisted  of  easy,  familiar  scripture  expo- 
sitions and  deductions  of  moral  lessons.  Origen,  the  most 
celebrated  divine  of  the  third  century,  preached  without 
manuscript,  and  Eusebius  says  of  him : 

"  Then,  as  was  to  be  expected,  our  religion  spreading  more 
and  more,  and  our  brethren  beginning  to  converse  more 
freely  with  all,  Origen,  who  they  say  was  now  more  than 
sixty  years  of  age,  and  who,  from  long  practice,  had  ac- 
quired great  facility  in  discoursing,  permitted  his  discourses 
to  be  taken  down  by  ready  writers,  a  thing  which  he  had 
never  allowed  before." 

This  shows  not  only  that  he  had  been  accustomed  to 
preach  extempore,  but  that  he  would  not  permit  the  sketches 
of  his  sermons  which  could  be  made  by  the  imperfect  re- 
porting of  that  day,  to  be  published  until  late  in  life.  This 
would  be  very  natural,  when  unstudied  explanation  was  the 
main  object  of  the  address,  but  very  unnatural  if  the  sermon 
had  been  written  according  to  the  rules  of  rhetorical  com- 
position. In  the  sermons  of  Chrysostom  there  are  many 
passages  which  could  not,  from  their  nature,  have  been  prc- 
composed,  and  these  are  among  the  most  brilliant  of  all. 
But  Augustine,  who  flourished  in  the  fourth  century,  affords 
us  a  still  more  conclusive  proof  of  the  power  of  the  natural 
mode  of  address. 


AUGUSTINE. 

The  father  of  this  great  man  was  a  pagan,  but  his  mother 
was  a  Christian.  She  was  a  most  remarkable  woman,  and  from 
her  he  doubtless  inherited  some  of  the  strongest  elements  of 
his  character.  Her  prayers  for  his  conversion  were  almost 
continual,  but  for  many  years  produced  no  apparent  result. 
lie  plunged  into  many  excesses,  and  lived  a  most  irregular 
life,  but  from  this  he  was  aroused  by  the  death  of  his  father, 
and  by  the  study  of  philosophy.  For  a  time  the  latter 
seemed  to  satisfy  his  ardent  mind,  but  soon  he  saw  its  in- 
sufficiency, became  an  earnest  searcher  for  truth,  and  ex- 


EMINENT   SPEAKERS.  139 

plored  the  writings  of  the  sages  of  antiquity  without  being 
able  to  find  anything  on  which  he  could  rest.  The  problems 
of  life  pressed  upon  him  with  a  terrible  weight,  and  he  was 
too  profound  a  thinker  to  be  satisfied  with  any  superficial 
explanation.  The  doctrine  of  the  ancient  Persians — that  of 
the  two  antagonistic  principles  of  good  and  evil  in  the  world 
— for  a  while  charmed  his  imagination,  but  its  influence  over 
him  soon  passed  away.  During  all  this  time  he  was  rising 
in  fame  as  a  teacher  of  rhetoric  and  eloquence,  and  had  es- 
tablished a  school  in  Rome  which  became  widely  celebrated. 

His  reputation  as  a  teacher  caused  him  to  be  summoned  to 
Milan,  where  the  Emperor  then  was.  The  great  preacher, 
Jerome,  then  in  the  zenith  of  his  power,  officiated  in  that 
city.  Augustine  heard  him,  and  felt  that  his  doubts  were 
answered.  But  it  required  a  terrible  struggle  before  he 
could  yield,  and  it  was  only  after  he  had  passed  the  whole 
series  of  Christian  doctrines  in  review,  and  tested  them  by 
all  his  mighty  power  of  argument,  that  he  at  last  reposed  in 
the  truth.  The  joy  of  his  good  mother  can  scarcely  be  con- 
ceived at  this  answer  to  her  unceasing  prayer,  and  she  soon 
passed  away  triumphantly.  He  spent  a  short  period  in 
seclusion  and  profound  meditation,  was  then  baptized,  and 
four  years  after  began  to  preach. 

The  success  of  Augustine  was  as  great  in  preaching  as  it 
had  been  in  teaching,  and  he  was  promoted  to  the  office  of 
Bishop.  His  power  was  soon  felt  all  over  the  Christian 
world.  He  at  once  entered  on  a  course  of  labor  like  that  of 
Whitfield  and  Wesley,  but  still  more  varied.  He  preached 
once  every  day,  and  sometimes  twice ;  visited  the  sick  and 
poor  with  great  assiduity;  governed  his  diocese  wisely; 
was  the  Christian  champion  against  almost  innumerable 
forms  of  heresy  all  over  the  world ;  composed  some  most 
beautiful  hymns;  wrote  extensive  commentaries  that  are 
still  valued ;  kept  up  a  vast  correspondence  with  emperors, 
kings,  and  church  dignitaries  everywhere ;  and  indited  works 
of  theology,  literature,  criticism,  and  philosophy  in  immense 
profusion.  Some  of  these  will  live  as  long  as  the  language 


140  EXTEMPORE  SPEAKING. 

in  which  they  are  written  is  known.  For  thirty-five  years 
he  remained  at  his  post,  and  died  at  last,  while  his  city  was 
beleagured  by  a  barbarian  army,  in  time  to  escape  witness- 
ing the  ruin  that  burst  on  the  flock  he  had  so  long  loved  and 
served. 

The  power  of  Augustine  as  a  preacher  can  scarcely  be 
overrated.  Everywhere  the  people  flocked  to  hear  him,  and 
the  most  enduring  fruits  followed  his  ministry.  Hi 
mons  were  not  calculated  simply  to  win  admiration  for  the 
preacher,  but  pointed  to  the  holier  life,  and  led  men  to  love 
and  strive  after  it.  He  was  the  real  founder  of  what  is 
known  at  the  present  day  as  Calvinism,  and  by  his  vast 
power  made  it  the  prevailing  doctrine  of  the  church  for  cen- 
turies after  his  death.  There  can  be  no  question  about  his 
sincerity  and  earnestness,  and  just  as  little  regarding  the 
influence  of  his  solemn  eloquence.  He  quieted  tumults, 
changed  the  opinions  of  whole  towns,  and  wielded  assem- 
blies at  his  will.  He  left  a  large  number  of  sermons  in  a 
fragmentary  condition,  but  fully  justifying  all  that  his  con- 
temporaries have  written  of  him. 

It  is  not  possible  that  such  a  man  should  have  read  or 
recited  his  discourses.  To  have  done  so  would  have  left 
him  no  time  for  such  grand  works  as  the  "Confessions," 
"  City  of  God,"  and  others  too  numerous  to  mention,  which 
will  endure  while  the  world  stands.  But  he  has  not  left  us 
in  doubt  as  to  his  mode  of  preaching.  He  enjoins  the 
"Christian  teacher"  to  make  his  hearers  comprehend  what 
he  says,  "  to  read  in  the  eyes  and  countenances  of  his  audi- 
tors whether  they  understand  him  or  not,  and  to  repeat  the 
same  thing  by  giving  it  different  terms,  till  he  perceives  that 
it  is  understood,  an  advantage  which  those  cannot  have  who, 
by  a  servile  dependence  on  their  memories,  learn  their  ser- 
mons by  heart,  and  repeat  them  as  so  many  lessons.  Let 
not  the  preacher  become  the  servant  of  words ;  rather  let 
words  be  servants  to  the  preacher."  In  his  charity,  how- 
ever, he  does  allow  of  reciting  under  certain  circum- 
stances. "Those  who  are  destitute  of  invention,  but  can 


EMINENT   SPEAKERS. 

speak  well,  provided  they  select  well  written  discussions  of 
another  man  and  commit  them  to  memory  for  the  instruc- 
tion of  their  hearers,  will  not  do  badly  if  they  take  this 
course." 

LUTHER. 

The  name  of  Luther  is  so  well  known  that  it  will  not  be 
necessary  to  give  more  than  a  very  brief  sketch  of  his  won- 
derful life.  The  peasant,  who  was  raised  by  his  virtues 
to  more  than  kingly  power,  and  to  be  the  leader  of  the  great- 
est religious  movement  of  modern  times-,  cannot  be  a  stranger 
to  the  world.  Luther  was  bred  in  the  midst  of  poverty  and 
almost  of  want.  As  he  grew  older,  his  father,  who  was  a 
kind-hearted,  though  stern  man,  began  to  rise  in  the  world, 
and  found  means  to  send  him  to  school.  The  patronage  of 
a  wealthy  lady  named  Cotta,  was  also  of  great  benefit  to 
him.  He  was  distinguished  very  early  for  quickness  and 
profundity  of  intellect,  and  the  highest  hopes  were  formed 
of  him.  But  in  the  midst  of  flattering  prospects,  he  was 
deeply  convicted  of  sin,  and  terrified  concerning  his  spiritual 
•state.  After  he  had  spent  a  long  time  in  mental  struggles, 
full  of  agony,  he  resolved  to  become  a  monk,  as  the  surest 
way  of  allaying  all  doubt,  and  obtaining  the  spiritual  rest 
for  which  he  longed.  His  father  never  forgave  this  step,  until 
his  son  stood  in  direct  opposition  to  the  power  of  Rome. 
But  the  ardent  heart  of  Luther  could  not  find  peace  in  the 
dull  routine  of  a  convent  life,  and  every  spiritual  trial  was 
redoubled.  At  last,  while  he  was  reading  in  an  old  copy  of 
the  Bible,  which  he  had  found  in  the  library  of  the  convent, 
the  great  doctrine  of  justification  by  faith  dawned  upon 
him  with  all  the  freshness  of  a  new  revelation.  He  at  once 
began  to  teach  the  people  the  same  blessed  doctrine,  with 
the  most  gratifying  results.  His  preaching  was  marked  by 
great  power,  and  soon  his  sphere  widened.  He  was  made  a 
doctor  of  divinity  in  the  University  of  Wittenberg,  and 
began  to  lecture  on  Paul's  Epistles,  and  the  Psalms.  He 
was  still  a  devoted  adherent  of  Rome,  although  he  taught 


142  EXTEMPOKE   SPEAKING. 

the  students  under  his  care  to  look  to  the  Scriptures  as  the 
fountain  of  all  authority.  But  the  germs  of  the  Reforma- 
tion were  already  hid  in  his  own  mind,  and  it  only  required 
circumstances  to  bring  them  into  vigorous  life. 

These  were  soon  supplied.  When  a  monk  came  to  Wit- 
tenberg, selling  pardons  for  every  kind  of  sin,  even  that 
which  was  to  be  committed,  Luther  felt  it  his  duty  to  warn 
the  people  against  any  dependence  on  such  sources  of  for- 
giveness. The  Pope  took  part  with  the  monk  in  the  strife 
that  followed;  and  the  contest  went  from  one  point  to  an- 
other, until  the  Pope  hurled  a  decree  of  excommunication  at 
Luther,  which  he  burned,  in  the  presence  of  his  adherents, 
as  a  token  of  defiance  and  contempt.  The  reformation  spread 
wonderfully,  and  although  surrounded  on  every  side  by 
threatenings  and  enemies,  the  life  of  this  great  man  was 
spared,  and  for  years  he  exerted  an  influence  in  Germany 
not  second  to  that  of  the  Emperor  himself.  When  he  fell  at 
last,  in  the  midst  of  his  labors,  the  people  mourned  for  him 
as  for  a  personal  benefactor. 

All  through  his  life,  Luther  had  the  secret  of  reaching  the 
hearts  of  the  people  in  a  wonderful  manner.  No  other  of  the 
great  men  who  abounded  at  that  time  possessed  a  tithe  of 
his  power  in  this  respect.  It  has  been  said  "that  his  words 
were  half  battles."  His  discourses  were  not  smooth  or 
graceful,  yet  it  was  not  for  want  of  ability  to  secure  these 
qualities,  for  he  had  great  command  of  every  style  of  lan- 
guage, and  loved  softer  and  more  ornamented  speech  in 
others ;  but  he  was  too  much  in  earnest,  with  an  empire,  and 
the  vastest  hierarchy  the  world  ever  saw,  arrayed  against 
him,  to  stay  to  use  them.  Whenever  he  preached  the  peo- 
ple would  flock  together  from  great  distances,  and  listen  as 
to  a  prophet,  while  he  unfolded  the  grand  and  simple  plan  of 
salvation  in  the  plainest  words.  He  had  every  element  of  a 
great  preacher.  His  imagination  was  most  vivid,  and  he  did 
not  fail  to  use  it  to  the  utmost.  He  could  paint  a  scene  in 
all  the  completeness  of  action  before  his  hearers,  and  awaken 
their  tears  or  smiles  at  his  will.  He  used  no  manuscript,  but 


EMINENT   SPEAKERS.  143 

spoke  from  the  vast  fulness  of  knowledge  he  possessed  on 
every  subject.  His  pen  was  employed  as  well  as  his  voice. 
By  it  he  not  only  produced  a  great  number  of  books  that 
advanced  the  cause  of  the  Reformation  almost  as  much  as  his 
spoken  efforts,  but  by  the  combination  of  the  two  methods 
of  expression  writing  to  meet  the  eye  and  speaking  for  the 
ear,  he  taught  himself  both  accuracy  and  readiness,  and  was 
thus  prepared  for  the  part  he  was  called  upon  to  act.  Added 
to  these,  were  his  strong  emotions,  and  indomitable  will, 
which  gave  him  an  energy  that  bore  every  thing  before  him. 
For  beauty  and  grace  in  themselves  he  cared  nothing,  but 
when  they  came  unbidden,  as  they  often  did,  they  were  wel- 
come. He  rightly  estimated  his  own  character  and  work 
when  he  said  "  that  he  was  rough,  boisterous,  stormy,  and 
altogether  warlike;  born  to  fight  innumerable  devils  and 
monsters,  to  remove  stumps  and  stones,  to  cut  down  thistles 
and  thorns,  and  to  clear  the  wild  woods." 

LORD    CHATHAM. 

It  may  well  be  doubted  whether  the  eloquence  of  this 
great  and  wonderftil  man  did  not  surpass  that  of  either  Ci- 
cero or  Demosthenes.  It  is  certain  that  the  effects  he  re- 
peatedly produced  have  never  been  surpassed.  And  he  had 
not  to  deal  with  a  populace  easily  moved,  although  cultiva- 
ted in  some  particulars,  as  they  had ;  but  his  mightiest 
triumphs  were  won  in  the  British  Parliament,  from  an  acute, 
critical,  and  often  hostile  assembly.  His  example,  with  that 
of  his  son,  who  was  almost  equally  great,  afford  an  irrefu- 
table answer  to  those  who  doubt  the  capacity  of  unwritten 
speech  to  convey  impressions  as  mighty  as  any  ever  pro- 
duced by  man. 

He  was  born  in  1708,  and  was  educated  at  Oxford,  quit- 
ting it  without  a  degree,  but  with  a  brilliant  reputation. 
Soon  after  he  entered  Parliament,  and  gained  such  power 
that  he  was  shortly  advanced  to  the  office  of  Prime  Minis- 
ter. This  was  in  the  reign  of  George  II.  and  at  the  opening 
of  the  Seven  Years  War,  by  which  England  won  the  province 


144  EXTEMPORE  SPEAKING. 

of  Canada,  and  became  the  most  powerful  empire  in  the 
world.  But  when  he  took  the  reins  of  government  it  was 
far  different.  The  armies  of  the  nation  had  been  beaten  in 
every  quarter,  and  the  people  were  almost  in  despair.  But 
he  infused  new  spirit  into  them,  and  by  his  energy  and  far- 
sighted  combinations,  won  the  most  glorious  series  of  tri- 
umphs that  ever  crowned  the  arms  of  England.  His  fame 
did  not  cease  when  he  left  the  ministry,  and,  in  America  at 
last,  he  is  best  known  for  his  friendly  words  to  us  during  the 
revolutionary  war.  He  opposed  with  all  the  strength  of  his 
wondrous  eloquence  the  oppressive  measures  that  provoked 
the  colonists  to  revolution.  Yet  there  was  no  element  of 
fear  or  compromise  in  his  disposition.  He  only  opposed  the 
ministry  in  their  government  of  our  country  because  he  be- 
lieved their  measures  to  be  unjust.  But  when,  after  seven 
years  of  defeat  and  disaster,  the  body  of  the  nation  became 
convinced  that  the  Americans  never  could  be  conquered,  and 
the  proposition  was  made  to  recognize  their  independence, 
Chatham  fought  against  the  accomplishment  of  the  separa- 
tion with  all  his  vigor.  He  made  his  last  speech  on  this 
subject,  and  while  the  house  was  still  under  the  solemn  awe 
that  followed  his  address,  he  was  stricken  down  by  apo- 
plexy and  borne  home  to  die. 

We  have  little  upon  which  to  base  an  estimate  of  this 
almost  unequalled  orator,  save  the  effect  he  produced  upon 
his  contemporaries.  Nothing  has  been  preserved  of  his 
speeches,  but  a  few  passages  that  stamped  themselves  indeli- 
bly upon  the  minds  of  his  hearers.  Yet  through  his  elo- 
quence, backed  by  his  strong  will,  he  was  for  many  years 
virtually  dictator  of  England,  and  even  when  most  alone, 
scarcely  any  one  dared  to  meet  him  in  debate. 

Many  curious  instances  are  given  of  the  uncontrolled  as- 
cendency he  obtained  over  the  House  of  Commons.  His 
most  celebrated  rival  was  Murray,  Earl  of  Mansfield,  who 
had  just  been  promoted  to  the  office  of  Attorney-General, 
when  the  incident  narrated  below  occurred.  Chatham  made 
a  speech,  really  intended  to  overwhelm  Murray,  but  on  a 


EMINENT  SPEAKERS.  145 

totally  different  subject.  Fox  says  "  every  word  was  MUR- 
RAY, yet  so  managed  that  neither  he  nor  anybody  else  could 
take  public  notice  of  it  or  in  any  way  reprehend  him.  I  sat 
near  Murray,  who  suffered  for  an  hour.  At  its  close  he  used 
an  expression  that  at  once  became  proverbial."  After  the 
unhappy  Attorney  had  writhed  for  a  time,  and  endured  the 
terrible,  but  indirect,  satire  of  Chatham  until  endurance  was 
scarcely  possible  any  longer,  the  latter  stopped,  threw  his 
piercing  eyes  around  as  if  in  search  of  something,  then  fixing 
their  whole  force  on  his  victim,  exclaimed,  "I  must  now 
address  a  few  words  to  Mr.  Attorney ;  they  shall  be  few,  but 
they  shall  be  daggers ! "  Murray  was  agitated ;  the  look 
was  continued,  and  the  agitation  became  so  uncontrollable 
as  to  be  noticed  by  the  whole  house.  "  Felix  trembles" 
roared  Chatham,  in  a  voice  of  thunder  "he  shall  hear  me  some 
other  dn.y.n  Murray  was  too  completely  stricken  to  attempt 
a  reply. 

On  another  occasion,  having  finished  a  speech,  he  walked 
out  of  the  house  with  a  slow  step,  being  at  the  time  a  ha- 
bitual invalid.  There  was  a  profound  silence  until  he  was 
passing  through  the  door.  Then  a  member  started  up,  say- 
ing, "  Mr.  Speaker,  I  rise  to  reply  to  the  right  honorable 
gentleman."  Chatham  caught  the  sound,  turned  back,  and 
fixed  his  eye  on  the  orator,  who  instantly  sat  down.  He 
then  walked  slowly  to  his  seat,  repeating  in  Latin,  as  he 
hobbled  along,  the  lines  from  Virgil,  in  which  is  described 
the  terror  of  the  Grecian  ghosts  when  ^Eneas  entered  the 
dark  realm : 


44  The  Grecian  chiefs  

When  they  beheld  the  MAN  with  shining  arms 
Amid  those  shades,  trembled  with  sudden  fear, 

and  raised 

A  feeble  outcry  ;  but  the  sound  commenced, 
Died  on  their  gurgling  lips''1 

Reaching  his  seat,  he  exclaimed  in  a  tone  that  terrified  the 
whole  house,  "  Now  let  me  hear  what  the  honorable  gentle- 
man has  to  say  to  me."  There  was  no  response,  and  the 

7 


146  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 

whole  body  was  too  much  awed  to  laugh  at  the  situation 
of  the  poor  orator. 

Yet  he  did  not  deal  in  the  terrible  and  overpowering  all 
the  time.  In  a  most  eloquent  speech  in  opposition  to  a 
measure  that  he  believed  violated  the  sanctity  of  the  Eng- 
lish home,  he  gave  the  following  description  of  that  privi- 
lege which  is  justly  the  proudest  boast  of  an  Englishman. 
A  single  passage  is  all  that  remains,  but  it  will  not  soon 
be  forgotten : 

"  The  poorest  man  may  in  his  cottage  bid  defiance  to  all 
the  forces  of  the  Crown.  It  may  be  frail — its  roof  may 
shake — the  wind  may  blow  through  it — the  storm  may 
enter — the  rain  may  enter — but  the" King  of  England  can- 
not enter ! — all  his  forces  dare  not  cross  the  threshold  of 
the  ruined  tenement !  " 

Lord  Macautay,  who  was  in  no  sense  friendly  to  the  great 
orator,  gives  him  a  glowing  eulogy : 

"His  figure,  when  he  first  appeared  in  Parliament,  was 
strikingly  graceful  and  commanding,  his  features  high  and 
noble,  his  eye  full  of  fire.  His  voice,  even  when  it  sank  to 
a  whisper,  was  heard  to  the  remotest  benches;  when  he 
strained  it  to  its  full  extent,  the  sound  rose  like  the  swell  of 
the  organ  of  a  great  cathedral,  shook  the  house  with  its 
peal,  and  was  heard  through  lobbies,  and  down  staircases, 
to  the  Court  of  Requests,  and  the  precincts  of  Westminster 
Hall.  He  cultivated  all  these  eminent  advantages  with  the 
most  assiduous  care.  His  action  is  described  by  a  very  ma- 
lignant observer  as  equal  to  that  of  Garrick.  His  play  of 
countenance  was  wonderful ;  he  frequently  disconcerted  a 
hostile  orator  by  a  single  glance  of  indignation  or  scorn. 
Every  tone,  from  the  impassioned  cry  to  the  thrilling  aside, 
was  perfectly  at  his  command." 

He  was  a  truly  extemporaneous  speaker,  and  seldom 
attempted  any  other  style.  When  he  did  he  failed.  His 
memory  was  strong  and  retentive,  and  his  mind  so  fully 
stored  with  information  on  every  subject  that  he  was  always 
ready  for  debate.  Some  of  his  grandest  efforts  were  called 
forth  by  an  unexpected  circumstance,  or  a  single  glance  of 
his  eye.  Once,  while  replying  to  Suffolk,  he  caught  a  view 


EMINENT   SPEAKERS.  147 

of  the  tapestry  on  which  was  painted  some  of  the  achieve- 
ments of  the  ancestors  of  that  lord,  and  instantly  seized  the 
hint  it  conveyed  and  gave  expression  to  one  of  the  noblest 
bursts  of  eloquence  in  any  language.  One  of  his  contempo- 
raries says : 

"  When  without  forethought  or  any  other  preparation  than 
those  talents  nature  had  supplied,  and  education  cultivated, 
Chatham  rose — stirred  to  anger  by  some  sudden  subterfuge 
of  corruption,  or  device  of  tyranny — then  was  heard  an  elo- 
quence never  surpassed  either  in  ancient  or  modern  times. 
It  was  the  highest  power  of  expression  ministering  to  the 
highest  power  of  thought." 

WILLIAM   PITT. 

The  manner  in  which  the  younger  Pitt  succeeded  to  the 
talents  and  position  of  the  elder  is  one  of  the  most  wonder- 
ful things  in  history.  His  father  trained  him  from  his  in- 
fancy in  the  models  which  he  himself  had  imitated  so  suc- 
cessfully. Some  of  these  means  of  improvement,  which  at 
least  assisted  in  producing  the  peculiar  character  of  the 
eloquence  of  lather  and  son,  are  worthy  of  our  attention. 
They  both  translated  from  the  best  classical  authors,  com- 
mitted to  memory  choice  passages  from  the  poets,  and 
prose  writers  they  valued,  thus  acquiring  great  command 
of  words.  With  such  previous  training,  it  would  have  been 
useless  for  them  to  write  even  in  their  most  elaborate  efforts. 

When  the  younger  Pitt  had  finished  the  traditional  college 
course  and  was  admitted  to  the  bar,  he  also  entered  Parlia- 
ment, being  then  only  twenty-three  years  of  age.  He  de* 
livered  his  first  speech,  which  was  entirely  unpremeditated, 
only  about  a  month  afterward.  It  took  the  house  by  storm. 
In  the  midst  of  that  brilliant  assembly,  accustomed  to  the 
eloquence  of  Fox,  Burke,  and  others  worthy  of  any  age,  there 
was  a  universal  burst  of  enthusiastic  admiration.  When 
some  one  remarked,  "  Pitt  promises  to  be  one  of  the  first 
speakers  ever  heard  in  Parliament,"  Fox  replied,  "  He  is  so 
already" 


148  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING 

When  only  twenty-four  years  of  age  he  was  made  Prime 
Minister,  and  held  the  post  for  seventeen  years.  Although 
there  is  room  for  a  wide  difference  of  opinion  regarding  many 
of  his  acts  during  this  time,  there  is  none  concerning  his 
ability.  Among  other  reforms  that  he  advocated  was  the 
abolition  of  the  slave  trade.  He  made  a  speech  on  this  sub- 
ject that  is  still  celebrated.  Wilberforce  said  that  "  for  the 
last  twenty  minutes  he  really  seemed  to  be  inspired."  Wind- 
ham  declares  "  that  he  walked  home  lost  in  amazement  at  the 
compass,  until  then  unknown  to  him,  of  human  eloquence." 
Pitt  died  at  the  comparatively  early  age  of  forty-seven,  hold- 
ing the  highest  office  in  the  gift  of  his  country. 

Brougham  gives  a  glowing  account  of  his  power  as  an  ora- 
tor. "  He  is  to  be  placed  without  any  doubt  in  the  highest 
class.  With  a  sparing  use  of  ornament,  hardly  indulging 
more  in  figures,  or  even  in  figurative  expression,  than  the 
most  severe  examples  of  ancient  chasteness  allowed — with 
little  variety  of  style,  hardly  any  of  the  graces  of  manner — 
he  no  sooner  rose  than  he  carried  away  every  hearer,  and 
kept  the  attention  fixed  and  unflagging  until  it  pleased  him 
to  let  it  go ;  and  then 

"  4  So  charming  left  his  voice  that  we  awhile 

Still  thought  him  speaking,  still  stood  fixed  to  hear.' 

"  This  magical  effect  was  produced  by  his  unbroken  flow, 
which  never  for  a  moment  left  the  hearer  in  pain  or  doubt, 
and  yet  was  not  the  mean  fluency  of  mere  relaxation,  requir- 
ing no  effort  of  the  speaker,  but  imposing  on  the  listener  a 
heavy  task ;  by  his  lucid  arrangement,  which  made  all  parts 
of  the  most  complicated  subject  quit  their  entanglement  and 
fall  each  in  its  place;  by  the  clearness  of  his  statements 
which  presented  a  picture  to  the  mind;  by  the  forcible 
appeals  to  strict  reason  and  strong  feeling  which  formed  the 
great  staple  of  the  discourse;  by  the  majesty  of  the  diction  ; 
by  the  depth  and  fullness  of  the  most  sonorous  voice  and 
the  unbending  dignity  of  the  manner,  which  ever  reminded 
us  that  we  were  in  the  presence  of  more  than  the  mere  advo- 


EMINENT   SPEAKERS.  149 

cate  and  debater,  that  there  stood  before  us  a  ruler  of  the 
people.  Such  were  the  effects  invariably  of  this  singular 
eloquence;  nor  did  anything,  in  any  mood  of  mind,  ever 
drop  from  him  that  was  unsuited  to  the  majestic  frame  of 
the  whole,  or  could  disturb  the  serenity  of  the  full  and 
copious  flood  that  rolled  along." 

Macaulay  says  :  u  At  his  first  appearance  in  Parliament 
he  showed  himself  superior  to  all  his  contemporaries  in  com- 
mand of  language.  He  could  pour  out  a  long  succession  of 
round  and  stately  periods,  without  ever  pausing  for  a  word, 
without  ever  repeating  a  word,  in  a  voice  of  silver  clearness, 
and  with  a  pronunciation  so  articulate  that  not  a  letter  was 
slurred  over." 

These  men,  father  and  son,  were  never  excelled  in  debate. 
They  were  always  ready.  Every  advantage  that  the  occa- 
sion allowed  was  taken  at  the  time,  and  the  favorable  mo- 
ment never  went  by  while  they  were  preparing.  They  each 
attained  a  power  they  never  would  have  possessed  had  it 
been  necessary  for  them  to  use  manuscript  or  depend  on 
their  memory.  The  time  others  have  wasted  in  writing  spe- 
cial orations,  they  employed  in  such  wide  culture,  and  in 
accumulating  such  vast  stores  of  knowledge,  that  they  were 
always  ready.  They  were  able  to  come  to  great  intellectual 
contests  with  their  minds  fresh  and  unfagged  by  previous 
composition. 

But  it  may  be  said  that  with  all  their  power  they  were 
destitute  of  polish  and  beauty.  In  such  fragments  of  their 
speeches  as  have  been  preserved,  it  is  true  that  gracefulness 
is  less  conspicuous  than  force,  and  the  opponent  of  unwritten 
speech  may  imagine  that  this  is  a  necessary  consequence  of 
the  manner  in  which  they  spoke.  The  advantage  they  gained 
was  worth  the  cost,  even  if  this  lack  of  the  finer  and  more 
elegant  qualities  of  speech  was  inevitable.  But  that  this 
does  not  necessarily  result  from  extempore  speech,  is 
abundantly  proved  by  the  example  of  their  great  rival — 


13* 


150  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 


EDMUND    BURKE. 

This  prince  of  imaginative  orators  was  an  Irishman.  He 
was  born  in  1730,  and  graduated  in  Dublin  University  at 
the  age  of  twenty.  For  a  short  time  afterward  he  studied 
law,  but  soon  grew  weary  of  it  and  turned  his  attention  to 
philosophy  and  literature.  The  productions  of  his  pen 
speedily  won  an  enviable  reputation.  A  "Vindication  of 
Natural  Society "  was  speedily  followed  by  the  celebrated 
"  Essay  on  the  Sublime  and  Beautiful." 

His  appearance  in  Parliament,  the  great  arena  of  British 
eloquence,  was  comparatively  late  in  life,  but  as  soon  as 
elected  he  gave  promise  of  the  great  brilliancy  he  afterward 
displayed.  For  more  than  thirty  years  he  had  no  superior 
in  that  august  body,  and  scarcely  an  equal.  He  stood  side 
by  side  with  Pitt  in  defence  of  America,  and  endeared  him- 
self to  every  lover  of  liberty  in  both  hemispheres.  The 
great  impeachment  of  Warren  Hastings  was  mainly  brought 
about  by  his  influence,  and  afforded  room  for  all  his  powers. 
The  war  with  France  was  the  last  great  theme  upon  which 
his  eloquence  was  employed,  and  in  it  his  strongly  conserva- 
tive views  alienated  him  from  most  of  his  former  friends. 

During  all  this  time  his  eloquence  was  a  wonder  both  to 
friend  and  foe,  and  in  its  own  style  was  never  equalled  in 
the  House  of  Commons,  or  in  the  world.  His  speech  on  the 
impeaching  of  Warren  Hastings,  made  at  the  bar  of  the 
House  of  Lords,  was  an  unparalleled  effort.  It  extended  over 
a  period  of  four  days,  and  bore  everything  before  it.  On  the 
third  day  of  this  great  speech,  he  described  the  cruelties 
inflicted  on  some  of  the  natives  of  India  by  one  of  Hastings' s 
agents,  with  such  vividness  that  one  convulsive  shudder  ran 
through  the  whole  assemblage,  while  the  speaker  was  so 
much  affected  by  the  picture  he  had  penciled,  that  he  drop- 
ped his  head  upon  his  hands,  and  was  for  some  moments  un- 
able to  proceed.  Some,  who  were  present,  fell  into  a  swoon, 
while  even  Hastings  himself,  who  disclaimed  all  responsi- 


EMINENT  SPEAKERS.  151 

bility  for  these  things,  was  overwhelmed.  In  speaking  of 
the  matter  afterwards  he  says :  "  For  half  an  hour  I  looked 
upon  the  orator  in  a  revery  of  wonder,  and  actually  felt  my- 
self to  be  the  most  culpable  man  on  earth."  Lord  Thurlow, 
who  was  present,  declares  that  long  after,  many  who  were 
present  had  not  recovered  from  the  shock,  and  probably 
never  would. 

Soon  after,  the  great  speech  of  Sheridan  was  delivered. 
Like  Burke's,  it  was  extempore,  and  no  report  of  it,  worthy 
the  name,  remains.  It  was  only  inferior  to  the  mighty  effort 
that  preceded  it.  A  clergyman  who  came  to  the  house 
strongly  prepossessed  in  favor  of  Hastings,  said  at  the  close 
of  the  first  hour,  to  a  friend  who  sat  by  him,  "This  is  mere 
declamation  without  proof."  When  another  hour  had  passed, 
he  remarked,  "  This  is  a  wonderful  oration."  Another  hour 
went  by,  and  again  he  spoke:  "Warren  Hastings  certainly 
acted  unjustifiably."  At  the  end  of  the  fourth  hour  he  said: 
"  Hastings  is  an  atrocious  criminal."  When  the  speech 
closed  at  the  end  of  the  fifth  hour,  he  vehemently  declared, 
"  Of  all  monsters  of  iniquity,  Warren  Hastings  is  certainly 
the  most  enormous." 

For  seven  long  years  this  unprecedented  trial  went  on. 
More  than  one-third  of  those  who  sat  on  the  judge's  bench 
when  it  began  were  in  their  graves.  When,  at  last  it  drew 
to  a  close,  Burke  made  to  the  Lords  a  closing  charge  worthy 
of  his  genius : 

"  My  Lords,"  said  he,  "  I  have  done !  The  part  of  the 
Commons  is  concluded !  With  a  trembling  hand  we  con- 
sign the  product  of  these  long,  tony  labors  to  your  charge. 
Take  it !  Take  it !  It  is  a  sacred  trust !  Never  before  was 
a  cause  of  such  magnitude  submitted  to  any  human  tribunal. 
.  .  .  My  Lords,  it  has  pleased  Providence  to  place  us  in 
such  a  stage  that  we  appear  every  moment  to  be  on  the 
verge  of  some  great  mutation.  There  is  one  thing,  and  one 
thing  only  that  defies  mutation — that  which  existed  before 
the  world  itself.  I  mean  JUSTICE;  that  justice  which,  ema- 
nating from  the  Divinity,  has  a  place  in  the  breast  of  every 
one  of  us,  given  us  for  our  guide  with  regard  to  ourselves 


152  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 

• 

and  with  regard  to  others ;  and  which  will  stand  after  this 
globe  is  burned  to  ashes,  our  advocate  or  our  accuser  before 
our  great  Judge,  when  He  comes  to  call  upon  us  for  the 
tenor  of  a  well  spent  life." 

The  effect  of  this  speech  upon  the  auditory  was  such  that 
it  was  only  after  some  time  had  elapsed,  and  after  repeated 
efforts,  that  Fox,  himself  a  giant  in  eloquence,  could  obtain 
a  hearing. 

The  character  of  Burke's  eloquence  is  well  summed  up  in 
the  following  account,  given  by  Wraxall,  one  of  his  contem- 
poraries : 

"  ISkiture  had  bestowed  on  him  a  boundless  imagination, 
aided  by  a  memory  of  equal  strength  and  tenacity.  His 
fancy  was  so  vivid  that  it  seemed  to  light  up  by  its  own 
powers,  and  to  burn  without  consuming  the  aliment  on  which 
it  fed :  sometimes  bearing  him  away  into  ideal  scenes  crea- 
ted by  his  own  exuberant  mind,  but  from  which  he,  sooner 
or  later,  returned  to  the  subject  of  debate;  descending  from 
his  most  aerial  flights,  by  a  ixentle  and  imperceptible  grada- 
tion, till  he  again  touched  the  ground.  Learning  waited  on 
him  like  a  handmaid,  presenting  to  his  choice  all  that  anti- 
quity has  culled  or  invented,  most  elucidatory  of  the  topic 
under  discussion.  He  always  seemed  to  be  oppressed  under 
the  load  and  variety  of  his  intellectual  treasures.  Every 
power  of  oratory  was  wielded  by  him  in  its  turn  ;  for  he 
could  be,  during  the  same  evening,  often  within  the  space  of 
a  few  minutes,  pathetic  and  humorous ;  acrimonious  and 
conciliating ;  now  giving  loose  to  his  indignation  or  severity  ; 
and  then,  almost  in  the  same  breath,  calling  to  his  assist- 
ance wit  and  ridicule.  It  would  be  endless  to  cite  instances 
of  this  versatility  of  his  disposition,  and  of  the  rapidity  of 
his  transitions, 

'  Prom  grave  to  gay,  from  lively  to  severe,' 

that  I  have,  myself,  witnessed.  .  .  .  What  he  was  in 
public  he  was  in  private ;  like  the  star  which  now  precedes 
and  now  follows  the  sun,  he  was  equally  brilliant  whether 
he 

4  Flamed  in  the  forehead  of  the  morning  sky,1 

or  led  on  with  a  milder  luster  the  modest  hosts  of  evening." 


EMINENT   SPEAKERS.  153 

A  Frenchman  gives  a  graphic  description  of  one  of  his 
speeches.  At  first  he  was  disappointed  in  his  appearance. 

"  I  certainly  did  not  expect  to  find  him  in  the  British  Par- 
liament dressed  in  the  ancient  toga ;  nor  was  I  prepared  to  see 
him  in  a  tight  brown  coat,  which  seemed  to  impede  every 
movement,  and  above  all,  the  little  hat-wig  with  curls.  . 
He  moved  into  the  middle  of  the  house  contrary  to  the  usual 
practice,  for  the  members  speak  standing  and  uncovered,  not 
leaving  their  places.  But  Mr.  Burke,  with  the  most  natural 
air  imaginable,  with  seeming  humility,  and  with  folded  arms, 
began  his  speech  in  so  low  a  tone  of  voice  that  I  could 
scarcely  hear  him.  Soon  after,  however,  becoming  animated 
by  degrees,  he  described  religion  attacked,  the  bonds  of 
subordination  broken,  civil  society  threatened  to  its  founda- 
tion. .  .  When  in  the  course  of  this  grand  sketch,  (to 
show  that  England  could  depend  only  on  herself,)  he  men- 
tioned Spain,  that  immense  monarchy,  which  appeared  to 
have  fallen  into  a  total  lethargy :  '  What  can  we  expect,' 
said  he,  'from  her? — mighty  indeed,  but  unwieldy — vast  in 
bulk,  but  inert  in  spirit — a.  whale  stranded  upon  the  sea  shore 
of  Europe?  The  whole  House  was  silent ;  every  mind  was 
fixed ;  .  .  .  never  was  the  electric  power  of  eloquence 
more  imperiously  felt.  I  have  witnessed  many,  too  many 
political  assemblages  and  striking  scenes  where  eloquence . 
performed  a  noble  part,  but  the  whole  of  them  appear  insipid 
when  compared  with  this  amazing  effort." 

Burke  was  an  extemporaneous  speaker  in  the  sense  wo 
have  used  the  word  in  the  preceding  pages.  He  thought 
over  the  ideas  of  his  speech  as  fully  as  his  time  permitted, 
and  when  he  spoke,  threw  them  into  the  language  of  the 
moment.  At  the  conclusion  of  one  of  his  speeches  on  the 
American  question,  his  friends  crowded  around  and  urged  him 
to  write  what  he  had  said  for  the  benefit  of  the  world.  He  did 
so  then,  and  also  on  five  other  occasions.  Of  the  hundreds 
of  other  speeches  he  delivered  only  broken  and  imperfect 
fragments  remain. 

Burke  exerted  himself  in  conversation,  and  thus  im- 
proved his  powers  of  language  in  the  method  we  have 
recommended.  Dr.  Johnston  says  of  him  in  his  oracular 
way  : 


154  EXTEMPORE  SPEAKING. 

"Burke  is  an  extraordinary  man.  His  stream  of  talk 
is  perpetual ;  and  he  does  not  talk  from  any  desire  of  dis 
tinction,  but  because  his  mind  is  full.  He  is  the  only  man 
whose  common  conversation  corresponds  with  the  general 
fame  he  has  in  the  world.  Take  him  up  where  you  please, 
he  is  ready  to  meet  you.  No  man  of  sense  could  meet  him 
by  accident  under  a  gateway  to  avoid  a  shower  without 
being  convinced  that  he  was  the  first  man  in  England." 


MIRABEAU, 

The  career  of  Mirabeau  more  resembles  a  strange  romance 
than  a  sober  history.  He  was  of  a  good  family,  but  during 
his  childhood  and  early  manhood  his  father  treated  him  like 
a  brute.  His  very  appearance  was  peculiar.  His  head  was 
of  enormous  size,  his  body  so  much  misshapen  that  his  father, 
who  persecuted  him  for  his  deformity,  declared  that  he 
looked  more  like  a  monster  than  a  human  being.  The  whole 
of  his  early  life  presents  a  picture  of  dreariness  and  misery 
exceeding  that  of  almost  any  other  man  who  has  risen  to 
greatness.  Several  times  he  was  imprisoned — once  for  three 
years  and  a  half— by  order  of  his  unnatural  parent.  Finally 
he  began  to  use  his  pen,  and  soon  won  general  admiration. 
His  father,  having  failed  to  crush  him,  now  became  recon- 
ciled, and  allowed  him  to  assume  the  family  name,  which  he 
had  not  permitted  before.  By  this  time  he  had  a  wide 
experience  of  vice,  and  was  deeply  in  debt.  His  struggles 
for  several  years  were  still  severe. 

But  at  length  the  great  revolution  came,  and  he  found  his 
true  element.  The  powers  of  speech  which  had  already  been 
displayed  to  a  limited  extent,  were  now  exercised  in  a  noble 
field.  The  people  soon  recognized  in  him  the  qualities  ne- 
cessary for  a  leader,  and  elected  him  to  the  General  Assem- 
bly of  France.  Here  he  was  feared  and  respected  by  all. 
He  had  no  party  to  support  him,  but  worked  alone,  and 
often  by  the  mere  force  of  his  genius  bent  the  Assembly  to 
his  will.  During  his  whole  career  there,  he  was  not  an  ex- 
Jreraist,  and  for  a  time  before  his  death  was  engaged  in 


EMINENT   SPEAKERS.  155 

upholding1  the  crown  and  the  cause  of  constitutional  govern- 
ment against  the  party  of  anarchy  and  death.  This  lost  him 
his  unbounded  popularity  with  the  fickle  populace  of  Paris, 
and  they  began  to  shout  for  his  blood.  He  was  charged  in 
the  Assembly  with  corruption,  and  treason  to  the  cause  of 
liberty.  This  only  prepared  the  way  for  his  triumph.  The 
very  tree  was  marked  on  which  he  was  to  be  hung.  But  he 
did  not  quail  before  the  storm.  When  he  reached  the  hall, 
he  found  himself  in  the  midst  of  determined  enemies  already 
drunk  with  blood,  and  with  no  friend  who  dared  to  speak  on 
his  behalf.  But  the  mere  force  of  eloquence  prevailed.  He 
spoke  in  words  of  such  power  that  the  noisy  multitude  was 
stilled,  and  the  tide  turned. 

After  this  triumph  he  took  part  in  every  measure,  and 
was  really  the  guiding  power  of  the  state.  The  king  leaned 
on  him  as  the  only  stay  of  his  reign,  and  the  moderate  of 
every  party  began  to  look  to  him  as  the  hope  of  France. 
Sometimes  he  spoke  five  times  in  one  day,  and  at  the  sound 
of  his  magical  voice  the  anarchical  Assembly  was  hushed  into 
reverence  and  submission.  But  his  exertions  were  beyond 
his  strength.  At  last  he  was  prostrated.  Every  hour  the 
king  sent  to  enquire  of  his  health,  and  bulletins  of  his  state 
were  posted  in  the  streets.  It  seemed  as  if  the  destiny  of 
France  was  to  be  decided  in  his  sick  chamber.  He  died,  and 
the  whole  nation  mourned,  as  well  it  might,  for  no  other 
hand  than  his  could  hold  back  the  reign  of  terror.  It  is 
indeed  a  problem  whether  that  terrible  tragedy  would  not 
have  been  prevented,  if  he  had  but  lived  a  few  months  longer. 

Some  of  the  speeches  of  this  remarkable  man  were  recited, 
but  in  these  he  never  attained  his  full  power.  A  French 
writer  well  describes  him : 

"  Mirabeau  in  the  tribune  was  the  most  imposing  of  ora- 
tors, an  orator  so  consummate,  that  it  is  harder  to  say  what 
he  wanted  that  what  he  possessed." 

Mirabeau  had  a  massive  and  square  obesity  of  figure, 
thick  lips,  a  forehead  broad,  bony,  prominent ;  arched  eye- 
brows, an  eagle  eye,  cheeks  flat,  and  somewhat  fleshy,  fca, 


156  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 

tures  full  of  pock  holes  and  blotches,  a  voice  of  thunder,  an 
enormous  mass  of  hair,  and  the  face  of  a  lion. 

His  manner  as  an  orator  is  that  of  the  great  masters  of 
antiquity,  with  an  admirable  energy  of  gesture,  and  a  vehe- 
mence of  diction  which  perhaps  they  had  never  reached. 

Mirabeau  in  his  premeditated  discourses  was  admirable. 
But  what  was  he  not  in  his  extemporaneous  effusions  ?  His 
natural  vehemence,  of  which  he  repressed  the  flights  in  his 
prepared  speeches,  broke  down  all  barriers  in  his  improvisa- 
tions. A  sort  of  nervous  irritability  gave  then  to  his  whole 
frame  an  almost  preternatural  animation  and  life.  His  breast 
dilated  with  an  impetuous  breathing.  His  lion  face  became 
wrinkled  and  contorted.  His  eyes  shot  forth  flame.  He 
roared,  he  stamped,  he  shook  the  fierce  mass  of  his  hair,  all 
whitened  with  foam ;  he  trod  the  tribune  with  the  supreme 
authority  of  a  master,  and  the  imperial  air  of  a  king.  What 
an  interesting  spectacle  to  behold  him,  momently,  erect  and 
exalt  himself  under  the  pressure  of  obstacle  !  To  see  him 
display  the  pride  of  his  commanding  brow  !  To  see  him, 
like  the  ancient  orator,  when,  with  all  the  power  of  his  un- 
chained eloquence,  he  was  wont  to  sway,  to  and  fro  in  the 
Forum,  the  agitated  waves  of  the  Roman  multitude.  Then 
would  he  throw  by  the  measured  notes  of  his  declamation, 
habitually  grave  and  solemn.  Then  would  escape  him  broken 
exclamations,  tones  of  thunder,  and  accents  of  heartrending 
and  terrible  pathos.  He  concealed  with  the  flash  and  color 
of  his  rhetoric,  the  sinewy  arguments  of  his  dialectics.  He 
transported  the  Assembly,  because  himself  transported. 
And  yet — so  extraordinary  was  his  force — he  abandoned 
himself  to  the  torrent  of  his  eloquence,  without  wandering 
from  his  course ;  he  mastered  others  by  its  sovereign  sway, 
without  losing  for  an  instant  his  own  self-control. 

PATRICK    HENRY. 

The  fame  of  this  great  man  cannot  soon  be  surpassed. 
He  not  only  produced  a  great  impression  at  the  time  he 
gpoke,  but  had  an  agency,  by  his  eloquent  words,  in  bring- 


EMINENT   SPEAKERS.  157 

ing  about  the  most  important  changes.  He  was  more  than 
the  mouthpiece  of  the  American  Revolution.  He  not  merely 
interpreted  the  feelings  of  the  mass  of  the  nation  to  itself, 
but  in  a  large  degree  originated  the  enthusiasm  that  led 
them  through  war  to  independence.  It  is  certain  that  the 
aristocratic  and  powerful  colony  of  Virginia  would  have 
occupied  a  far  different  place  in  the  struggle  for  liberty,  if  it 
had  been  deprived  of  his  almost  irresistible  influence.  It  is 
hard  to  speculate  on  what  might  have  been  the  result  if 
temporizing  measures  had  carried  the  day,  and  the  union  of 
the  colonies  been  interfered  with  by  want  of  cordial  sym- 
pathy. The  political  wisdom  of  Franklin,  and  the  military 
skill  and  constancy  of  Washington,  did  not  contribute  more 
to  final  success  than  the  bold  councils  and  fervent  utterances 
of  the  country  lawyer  who  is  the  subject  of  our  sketch. 

Patrick  Henry  was  born  in  Hanover  county,  Virginia,  in 
May,  1736.  In  childhood  he  acquired  the  common  elements 
of  education,  and  some  knowledge  of  Latin  and  mathema- 
tics, and  was  not  the  ignorant  youth  that  some  of  his  admi- 
rers delight  in  representing  him.  But  he  was  exceedingly 
fond  of  hunting  and  fishing,  and  would  often  spend  the 
hours  in  this  way,  that  might  have  been  devoted  to  more 
useful  employment.  But  he  became  a  great  day  dreamer, 
thus  at  once  revealing  and  exercising  the  unbounded  imagi- 
nation he  possessed.  He  loved  to  wander  alone,  that  he 
might  give  full  play  to  the  visions  and  reveries  that  floated 
through  his  brain. 

When  about  fourteen,  he  heard  the  celebrated  Presbyte- 
rian minister,  Samuel  Davies.  His  eloquence  was  the  most 
powerful  that  Henry  had  hitherto  enjoyed,  and  awakened  in 
him  a  spirit  of  emulation.  All  his  life  Henry  delighted  to 
do  him  honor,  and  attributed  the  bent  of  his  own  mind  to 
oratory  and  a  large  measure  of  his  success  to  this  man. 

In  business,  the  future  statesman  was  uniformly  most  unsuc- 
cessful. He  twice  failed  as  a  storekeeper,  and  once  as  a  farmer. 
But  all  this  time  he  was  really  studying  for  his  future  pro- 
fession. He  was  fond  of  talk,  and  by  indulging  in  it  freely 


158  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKIXG 

doubtless  improved  his  power  of  language.  He  would  re- 
late long  stories,  and  do  it  so  well  that  those  who  thronged 
his  counter  took  as  little  note  of  time  as  he  did,  and  yielded 
their  hearts  as  fully  to  him  as  larger  audiences  did  after- 
ward. 

As  a  last  resort  he  studied  law,  but  for  a  time  his  success 
was  no  better  in  this  than  in  his  previous  occupations.  But 
after  two  or  three  years,  during  which  he  lived  without 
practice,  and  in  a  dependent  condition,  he  was  retained  in 
what  seemed  merely  a  nominal  capacity — as  defendant  in 
the  noted  "  Parsons  case."  The  preachers  of  the  established 
church  were  paid  so  many  pounds  of  tobacco  per  annum. 
But  when  the  price  arose,  in  a  time  of  scarcity,  the  Legisla- 
ture passed  an  act  allowing  all  persons  to  pay  their  assess- 
ment in  money  at  the  rate  of  2d  per  pound,  which  was  much 
less  than  it  was  worth  at  that  time.  After  an  interval  this 
law  was  declared  void  by  the  king  and  his  council.  Then 
the  clergy  instituted  suit  to  recover  what  they  had  lost  du- 
ring the  time  the  act  was  enforced.  There  was  no  doubt  of 
the  legality  of  their  claim,  although  more  of  its  intrinsic 
rightfulness,  and  the  law  question  was  decided  in  a  test  case, 
almost  without  controversy.  This  really  surrendered  the 
whole  matter,  and  the  only  issue  then  was  as  to  the  amount 
of  damage  they  had  sustained — a  very  plain  question,  appa- 
rently affording  no  room  for  argument  by  the  defense. 

A  vast  array  of  the  clergy  were  present,  and  on  the  bench 
was  Henry's  own  father.  No  circumstances  could  be  im- 
agined more  unfavorable  for  the  maiden  speech  of  a  young 
lawyer.  The  case  for  the  plaintiff  was  clearly  and  forcibly 
stated  by  a  leading  member  of  the  bar,  and  Henry  began  his 
reply.  It  is  no  wonder  that  he  faltered,  and  that  his  sen- 
tences were  awkward  and  confused.  The  people,  who  were 
present  in  great  numbers,  and  who  were  intensely  hostile  to 
the  preachers,  hung  their  heads,  and  gave  up  the  contest. 
The  father  of  the  speaker  was  shame-faced  and  dismayed. 
The  preachers  smiled  in  derision,  and  exchanged  congratu- 
latory glances.  But  it  was  too  soon.  The  power  of  elo- 


EMINENT   SPEAKEKS.  159 

quence  began  to  assert  itself.  The  strong  mind  of  Henry 
mastered  all  embarrassment,  and  was  brought  to  bear,  with 
irresistible  force,  upon  his  subject,  and  upon  those  around. 
All  eyes  were  drawn  to  the  almost  unknown  speaker.  His 
rusticity  of  manner  had  disappeared ;  his  form  became  erect, 
and  his  piercing  eyes  shot  forth  lightning.  "  A  mysterious 
and  almost  supernatural  transformation  of  appearance" 
passed  over  him.  Every  pulse  beat  responsive  to  his,  and 
throbbed  with  his  own  mighty  indignation.  He  turned  his 
withering  invective  upon  the  clergy,  speaking  of  their  greedi- 
ness, oppression,  and  meanness,  until  they  fled  from  the 
court.  Spectators  say  that  their  blood  ran  cold  and  their 
hair  stood  on  end  !  When  he  concluded,  the  jury  in  an  in- 
stant brought  judgment  for  one  penny  damages  !  a  new  trial 
was  refused,  and  the  young  but  unparalleled  orator  was  borne 
away  in  triumph  by  the  shouting  multitude. 

His  first  appearance  in  the  house  of  Burgesses  was  not 
less  brilliant,  and  far  more  important  in  its  results.  The 
majority  of  the  Assembly  seemed  to  be  bent  on  new  petitions 
and  remonstrances  against  the  oppression  of  England,  when 
Henry  introduced  his  celebrated  resolutions,  declaring  in 
plain  phrases  that  the  acts  complained  of  were  unconstitu- 
tional and  void.  This,  which  was  little  short  of  a  declara- 
tion of  war,  was  received,  even  by  well-meaning  patriots, 
with  a  storm  of  opposition.  A  most  bitter  debate  followed. 
Henry  at  first  stood  almost  alone,  with  the  wealth  and  talent 
of  the  Assembly  arrayed  against  him.  But  his  clear  con- 
viction, determined  will,  and  powerful  eloquence  turned  the 
scale,  and  the  resolutions  passed,  committing  Virginia  to  the 
cause  of  resistance. 

When  Henry  attended  the  first  Congress  he  found  an 
array  of  men,  whose  fame  was  already  becoming  world- wide. 
But  he  soon  won  his  way  to  the  very  highest  rank  among 
them,  and  maintained  it  to  the  close.  His  extraordinary 
eloquence  excited  the  same  astonishment  on  this  broader 
field,  as  in  seclusion  of  the  Virginia  hills.  It  was  "  Shakes- 
peare and  Garrick  combined."  When  he  took  his  seat  after 


160  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 

his  opening  speech,  the  first  speech  that  had  broken  the 
silence  of  the  great  assembly,  there  was  no  longer  a  doubt 
that  he  was  the  greatest  orator  in  America,  and  probably  in 
the  world.  This  pre-eminence  he  maintained  all  through  the 
exciting  struggle.  His  voice  was  ever  like  an  inspiration, 
and  the  people  looked  up  to  him  almost  as  a  prophet. 

His  vast  power  remained  until  the  close  of  his  life.  The 
last  great  speech,  made  in  a  contest  with  John  Randolph, 
when  he  was  nearly  seventy  years  of  age,  and  only  three 
months  before  his  death,  was  equal  to  any  of  his  former 
efforts.  "The  sun  had  set  in  all  its  glory." 

These  few  sketches  will  sufficiently  illustrate  the  eloquence 
of  this  wonderful  man.  It  only  remains  to  state  what  is 
known  in  regard  to  his  methods  of  preparation.  He  never 
wrote.  His  mightiest  efforts  were  made  in  situations  where 
the  use  of  the  pen  would  have  been  impossible.  The  Vir- 
ginia resolutions  were  written  on  a  blank  leaf  in  a  law  book, 
and  during  the  whole  of  the  terrible  debate  which  followed, 
he  was  ever  ready,  and  mastered  all  opponents.  He  thought 
much,  but  wrote  little.  He  spoke  only  on  great  occasions, 
while  in  political  life,  but  gave  attention  to  all  that  was 
passing,  and  by  keen  observation  learned  the  characters  of 
those  upon  whose  minds  he  wrought.  Thus  he  was  prepared 
to  drive  every  word  home  to  its  mark.  He  was  a  great  stu- 
dent of  history,  and  this  knowledge  doubtless  contributed 
very  greatly  to  the  clearness  and  precision  of  his  views  upon 
the  great  struggle  in  which  the  country  was  engaged,  as 
well  as  gave  him  an  ample  fund  of  illustration  in  his  speeches. 
Study  of  character  and  of  history,  cultivation  of  the  power 
of  narration  and  of  language,  seem  to  have  been  the  means 
by  which  his  wonderful  natural  genius  was  fitted  for  its 
triumphs. 

GEORGE    WHITFIELD. 

Few  men  of  any  age  have  been  instrumental  in  accom- 
plishing more  good  than  the  subject  of  our  present  sketch. 
Without  deep  logical  powers,  and  with  little  claim  to  origi- 


EMINENT  SPEAKERS.  161 

nality  of  thought,  he  chained  vast  multitudes  by  his  elo- 
quence, and  was  one  of  the  foremost  actors  in  a  mighty 
religious  movement. 

None  of  the  converts  Whitfield  gathered  into  the  church 
ever  passed  through  a  more  strongly  marked  experience  in 
personal  religion  than  he  did.  The  agony  of  conviction  he 
underwent  was  terrible,  and  he  struggled  long  and  despe- 
rately before  he  obtained  peace.  "  God  only  knows,"  he 
exclaims,  "  how  many  nights  I  have  lain  upon  my  bed  groan- 
ing under  what  I  felt.  Whole  days  and  weeks  have  I  spent 
in  lying  prostrate  on  the  ground,  in  silent  or  vocal  prayer." 
His  mind  almost  failed  under  the  violence  of  his  mental  con- 
flicts, and  he  endeavored,  by  wearing  the  meanest  apparel, 
and  almost  continual  fasting,  and  many  works  of  self-morti- 
fication to  find  relief.  But  all  this  was  in  vain.  We  see  in 
it  an  indication  of  the  terrible  earnestness  and  sincerity  of 
the  man — qualities  which  never  passed  away  from  him. 
These  months  of  vivid  emotion  affected  his  whole  life,  and 
imparted  an  intensity  to  his  pictures  of  sin,  and  a  vividness 
to  his  realization  of  its  horrors,  that  he  never  would  have 
had  otherwise. 

At  last  his  health  gave  way  beneath  the  pressure  of  his 
spiritual  trials,  and  he  fell  into  a  long  sickness.  At  the  end 
of  seven  weeks  he  found  peace,  and  his  raptures  became  as 
great  as  the  horrors  of  conscience  had  been.  "  But  oh  !  with 
what  joy,  joy  unspeakable,  even  joy  that  was  full  of  glory, 
was  my  soul  filled,  when  the  weight  of  sin  went  off,  and  an 
abiding  sense  of  the  love  of  God  and  a  full  assurance  of 
faith  broke  in  upon  my  disconsolate  soul."  This  rapturous 
experience  continued  with  few  interruptions  through  life, 
and  really  formed  the  spring  of  his  wonderful  exertions. 
For  thirty-four  years  his  soul  glowed  in  all  the  fervors  that 
he  had  experienced  at  his  first  conversion,  and  he  put  forth 
his  great  strength  in  unwearied  efforts  to  bring  others  to  the 
same  blessed  enjoyment. 

His  career  opened  with  wonderful  brilliancy.  The  first 
sermon  preached  after  his  ordination  as  deacon,  was  said  to 


162  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 

"  have  driven  fifteen  persons  mad," — a  kind  of  madness  that 
soon  became  common  in  England.  Everywhere  the  people 
flocked  to  hear  him  in  crowds,  and  soon  no  church  would 
contain  the  multitude,  even  when  they  were  opened  for  him. 
Once,  when  preaching  with  "  great  freedom  of  heart  and 
clearness  of  voice,"  with  thousands  of  persons  standing  out- 
side of  the  church,  after  hundreds  had  gone  away  for  want 
of  room,  he  was  struck  with  the  thought  of  preaching  the 
word  in  the  open  air.  Friends  discouraged,  but  the  die  was 
soon  cast,  and  from  that  time  forward  his  mightiest  triumphs 
were  won  in  imitation  of  his  Master,  "  who  had  a  mountain 
for  His  pulpit,  and  the  heavens  for  a  sounding  board  !  "  This 
was  the  proper  theater  for  the  display  of  his  wonderful 
power,  and  his  spirit  felt  the  beauty  and  grandeur  of  the 
scene.  Sometimes  as  many  as  twenty  thousand  people  were 
gathered  together. 

The  theater  of  his  most  marvelous  triumphs  was  at  Moor- 
fields  during  the  Whitsun  holidays.  The  lowest  class  of 
London  population  was  then  poured  forth,  and  the  most 
riotous  scenes  enacted.  He  resolved  to  begin  early,  in  order 
to  secure  the  field  before  the  greatest  rush  of  the  crowd. 
Ten  thousand  people  were  gathered  impatiently  waiting  for 
the  sports  of  the  day.  "  He  had  for  once  got  the  start  of 
the  devil,"  and  soon  drew  the  multitude  around  him.  At 
noon  he  tried  again.  The  odds  against  him  were  greater. 
Between  twenty  and  thirty  thousand  people  were  present, 
and  shows,  exhibitors,  and  players  were  all  busy.  He  shouted 
his  text,  "  Great  is  Diana  of  the  Ephesians,"  and  began  the 
battle.  It  was  waged  fiercely,  and  stones,  dirt,  and  rotten 
eggs,  with  every  other  means  of  annoyance,  were  brought  to 
bear  on  the  steadfast  preacher.  "  My  soul,"  he  says,  "  was 
among  lions."  But  soon  his  wonderful  power  transformed 
the  multitude  into  lambs. 

At  night  he  renewed  the  assault  on  the  stronghold  of  the 
adversary.  Thousands  had  been  added  to  the  throng,  and 
their  leaders,  who  had  lost  much  of  their  day's  gain  by  his 
preaching,  were  determined  to  endure  it  no  longer.  A  har- 


EMINENT   SPEAKERS.  163 

lequin  attempted  to  strike  him  with  a  whip  but  failed.  A 
recruiting  sergeant,  with  many  followers,  and  with  drum 
and  fife,  made  the  next  effort.  But  Whitfield  called  to  the 
people  to  make  way  for  the  king's  officer,  and  the  people 
yielded  before,  and  closed  up  behind  him,  until  he  was  in 
this  manner  conducted  harmlessly  out  of  the  crowd.  Next, 
a  large  number  combined  together,  and  taking  hold  of  a 
long  pole  charged  furiously  on  the  assembly,  roaring  like 
beasts.  But  they  too  were  foiled,  and  threw  down  the  pole, 
many  of  them  joining  the  hearers.  At  times  the  tumult  rose 
like  the  noise  of  many  waters,  drowning  the  voice  of  the 
preacher,  who  would  then  resort  to  singing,  until  silence  re- 
turned. He  kept  the  field  to  the  last,  and  gathered  mighty 
spoil  into  his  Tabernacle  that  night. 

Very  different  were  the  sermons  he  preached  at  the  man- 
sion of  Lady  Huntingdon,  but  they  were  marked  by  the  same 
power.  Courtiers  and  noblemen  joined  in  praising  him,  and 
Hume  declared  that  he  would  go  twenty  miles  to  hear  him. 
No  one  seemed  to  be  impervious  to  his  wonderful  eloquence, 
and  even  in  this  selected  circle  he  gathered  trophies  of  the 
Cross. 

He  passed  and  repassed  from  England  to  America  several 
times,  and  was  everywhere  as  a  flame  of  fire.  The  languid 
zeal  of  lukewarm  churches  was  revived,  and  the  careless  and 
immoral  led  into  new  lives.  He  was  soon  looked  up  to  as  an 
apostle  by  thousands  who  dated  their  first  religious  impres- 
sions from  the  time  when  they  listened  to  his  fervid  words. 
But  opposition  was  not  wanting,  and  once  he  very  nearly 
received  the  crown  of  martyrdom. 

After  he  had  finished  preaching  in  Dublin,  he  was  attacked 
by  an  immense  mob  of  infuriated  Papists.  His  friends  fled 
for  their  lives,  and  left  him  to  the  mercy  of  the  rioters.  Stones 
from  every  direction  struck  him,  until  he  was  breathless  and 
dripping  with  blood.  He  found  a  momentary  refuge,  when 
almost  at  the  point  of  death,  but  the  inmates  of  the  house 
which  he  had  entered,  fearing  it  would  be  demolished,  en- 
treated him  to  leave.  He  was  offered  a  disguise,  but  refused 


164  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 

it,  and  in  his  proper  dress  passed  through  whole  streets  of 
threatening  Papists,  and  as  soon  as  he  had  reached  a  place  of 
safety,  and  had  his  wounds  dressed,  began  to  preach  again ! 

Thus  year  after  year  passed,  crowded  full  of  labors.  He 
considered  it  an  indication  of  great  feebleness  that  for  a  short 
time  he  could  only  preach  one  sermon  a  day.  Thousands  in 
Europe  and  America  called  him  blessed,  and  everywhere 
countless  multitudes  crowded  to  hear  him  speak  of  the  grace 
of  God.  For  the  lifetime  of  an  ordinary  generation  his  un- 
equaled  power  and  untiring  labor  continued.  After  speaking 
he  frequently  vomited  great  quantities  of  blood,  which  he 
regarded  as  relieving  his  over-taxed  lungs. 

His  death  was  romantic  and  beautiful,  as  befitted  such  a 
life.  There  are  few  more  touching,  and  yet  more  happy  in 
the  records  of  biography. 

He  preached  his  last  field  sermon  at  Exeter.  It  was  con- 
tinued for  two  hours,  and  was  among  his  most  powerful 
efforts.  He  reached  Newburyport,  Mass.,  the  same  evening, 
where  he  intended  to  preach  the  next  day.  While  at  supper, 
the  pavement,  and  the  hall  of  the  house  where  he  sat,  were 
crowded  with  people  impatient  to  hear  the  wonderful  orator. 
But  he  was  exhausted,  and  said  to  one  of  the  clergymen  who 
accompanied  him,  "  Brother,  you  must  speak  to  these  dear 
people ;  I  cannot  say  a  word."  He  took  a  candle  and  started 
for  his  room,  but  before  he  reached  it,  his  generous  heart 
reproached  him  for  even  seeming  to  desert  the  people  who 
were  hungering  for  the  bread  of  life.  He  paused  on  the 
stairway,  while  the  piece  of  candle  he  had  taken  when  he 
started  cast  its  flickering  light  on  the  crowd  below,  and 
began  to  speak.  The  people  gazed  with  tearful  awe  and 
affection  on  his  venerable  Torm.  His  musical  and  pathetic 
voice  flowed  on  in  words  of  tenderness  and  exhortation  until 
the  candle  went  out  in  its  socket.  Before  the  morning  he 
was  dead ! 

His  remembrance  did  not  die  with  him.  Europe  and 
America  vied  together  in  mourning  for  him,  and  Methodists, 
Churchmen,  and  Dissenters  revered  him  as  a  departed  prophet. 


EMINENT  SPEAKERS.  165 

What  was  the  secret  of  his  unparalleled  power  with  the 
people  ?  Clearly  its  spring  was  his  own  profound  and  over- 
whelming emotions.  It  is  sometimes  thought  that  his  almost 
perfect  elocution  explains  the  fascination  he  exerted,  but  it 
does  not.  He  is  classed  by  many  as  one  who  committed  and 
recited  his  discourses.  But  it  may  be  safely  assumed  that 
he  could  not  have  commanded  one  tithe  of  his  success  in  that 
manner.  He  may  have  done  this  at  the  beginning  of  his 
career,  before  his  marvelous  genius  was  fully  developed,  but 
not  after.  It  is  indeed  given  as  a  reason  of  his  embarrass- 
ment when  he  began  to  preach  in  the  open  air,  that  he  had 
not  long  been  accustomed  to  preach  extempore.  He  says 
that  often,  in  his  own  apprehension,  he  had  not  a  word  to  say 
either  to  God  or  man.  Think  of  a  person  who  has  a  fully 
committed  sermon,  making  such  an  assertion,  and  afterwards 
thanking  God  for  giving  him  words  and  wisdom! 

The  very  best  possible  evidence  that  his  sermons  took  their 
external  form  at  the  moment,  was  that  he  complained  of  the 
reports  that  were  made  of  them.  If  they  had  been  written  be- 
fore preaching,  he  would  have  had  the  means  of  making  these 
as  perfect  as  desired.  Yet  he  repeated  sermons  on  particular 
subjects  very  often.  Foote  and  Garrick  estimated  that  they 
improved  up  to  the  thirtieth  and  fortieth  repetition.  Going 
over  the  same  ground  so  often,  many  striking  phrases  would 
doubtless  fix  themselves  in  his  mind,  but  he  would  still  be 
free  to  introduce  new  matters  as  he  wished.  His  illustrations, 
too,  many  of  which  were  gathered  from  his  own  wide  experi- 
ence, would  be  given  in  nearly  the  same  manner  on  successive 
occasions.  But  he  was  a  fine  talker,  and  by  his  unlimited 
practice  in  speech  improved  the  power  of  language  to  such 
an  extent  that  it  was  fully  capable  of  expressing  the  ocean 
of  feeling  that  flowed  in  his  soul.  His  published  sermons 
show  few  traces  of  the  pen,  but  bear  every  mark  of  impas- 
sioned utterance.  Untroubled  by  doubt,  all  that  he  preached 
was  felt  to  be  present  reality.  He  was  a  pure  and  holy  man, 
moved  by  the  Spirit  to  the  work  he  entered  on,  and  endowed 
with  a  heart  of  fire,  a  soul  of  love,  and  a  power  of  expression 


166  EXTEMPORE  SPEAKING. 

such  as  is  given  to  few  mortals.     No  wonder  that  the  multi- 
tude felt  him  to  be  little  less  than  inspired. 

JOHN    WESLEY. 

Both  Henry  and  Whitefield  were  men  of  such  vast  genius 
as  to  be  lifted  above  ordinary  rules.  When  we  look  upon 
them  we  feel  imitation  to  be  almost  hopeless.  But  we  will 
give  an  instance  of  an  altogether  different  kind,  and  thus 
show  how  easily  unwritten  speech  may  be  the  medium  of 
every  species  of  address.  John  Wesley  was  not  an  impas- 
sioned or  impetuous  orator,  and  yet  he  wielded  an  almost 
boundless  influence.  He  was  fluent  and  easy  in  his  language, 
but  exact  and  logical,  leaving  no  careless  word  on  which  an 
enemy  might  seize.  Yet  his  power  was  great,  and  even  the 
scenes  of  excitement  that  marked  the  preaching  of  WhitefieM, 
and  other  early  Methodists,  were  even  surpassed  under  his 
clear  calm  words. 

,We  have  no  intention  of  sketching  the  life  and  great 
achievements  of  Wesley,  but  will  only  consider  a  few  events 
that  bear  on  his  character  as  a  preacher.  Before  he  found 
peace  in  believing,  which  he  did  not  until  he  had  preached 
for  years,  his  sermons  were  not  characterized  by  any  extra- 
ordinary power.  They  were  strong,  clear,  fluent,  and  no 
more.  But  after  his  return  from  his  final  voyage  to  America, 
there  was  a  great  change.  The  external  characteristics  re- 
mained nearly  the  same,  but  the  fervor  and  power  of  the 
spirit  that  breathed  through  his  mildest  words,  soon  produced 
the  opposite  effects  of  exciting  bitter  enmity  and  of  drawing 
the  hearts  of  the  people  toward  him.  It  mattered  not  what 
the  nature  of  his  congregations  might  be,  there  was  some- 
thing in  his  manner  and  words  adapted  to  all.  He  began 
field  preaching  about  the  same  time  that  Whitefield  did,  and 
sometimes  gathered  as  many  as  twenty  thousand  into  one 
congregation.  While  he  spoke  the  whole  assembly  was 
often  bathed  in  tears,  and  frequently  many  fell  down  as 
dead.  He  gathered  those  who  were  convinced  by  his  preach- 
ing into  societies,  and  these  scon  spread  over  the  whole  coun- 


EMINENT   SPEAKERS.  167 

try.  He  was  thus  required  to  exercise  more  authority  in 
caring  for  them  than  any  bishop  of  the  Established  Church. 
For  upwards  of  fifty  years  he  averaged  fifteen  sermons  a 
week. 

Although  Wesley  was  the  founder  of  Methodism,  yet  he 
differed  widely  from  the  typical  Methodist  preachers.  He 
dressed  neatly,  was  most  courteous  and  polished  in  manners, 
graceful  in  the  pulpit,  and  considered  violent  exertions  of 
the  voice  or  furious  gesticulation  to  be  little  less  than  sin. 
His  published  sermons  are  models  of  thoughtful  analysis, 
close  reasoning,  and  orderly  arrangement.  Yet  he  always 
spoke  without  manuscript  and  without  memorizing. 

Wesley  would  certainly  have  been  justified,  if  any  person 
ever  was,  in  reading  his  discourses.  For  he  was  surrounded 
by  those  who  had  been  led  into  the  way  of  life  by  him,  and 
who  treasured  up  every  word  that  fell  from  his  lips,  while 
on  the  other  hand,  unscrupulous  enemies  misrepresented  him 
continually,  and  sought  for  occasion  to  accuse  him  of  teaching 
pernicious  doctrine.  Yet  amid  such  ceaseless  preaching,  he 
was  always  able  to  command  the  very  words  to  express  his 
ideas,  and  was  never  compelled  to  retract  an  unguarded 
sentence.  The  volumes  of  sermons  which  he  published  are 
to  be  regarded  as  mere  abstracts  of  his  teaching,  recorded 
for  the  benefit  of  his  societies,  and  not  as  the  very  words  he 
used  upon  particular  occasions.  In  his  later  years  he  came 
before  the  people,  as  a  father  instructing  his  children,  and 
imparted  to  them  the  weighty  truths  he  thought  they  ought 
to  know,  in  all  simplicity,  and  without  the  slightest  care  for 
outward  ornament  or  word-nicety. 

SIDNEY    SMITH. 

This  eccentnc,  whole-souled,  humorous,  and  eloquent  cler- 
gyman was  born  in  1771,  and  died  in  1835.  He  graduated 
at  Oxford,  received  a  fellowship,  worth  five  hundred  dollars 
a  year,  and  thought  to  study  law,  but  at  the  instance  of  his 
father,  changed  hie  mind  and  entered  the  Church.  In  con- 


168  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 

nection  with  three  others  he  started  the  Edinburgh  Review, 
and  for  years  contributed  sparkling  articles  that  did  much 
to  establish  its  reputation  and  popularity.  He  also  became 
known  to  a  wide  circle  for  his  brilliant  conversational  powers, 
and,  like  so  many  extempore  speakers,  took  great  delight 
in  this  most  pleasant  means  of  improvement. 

At  first  his  preferment  in  the  Church  was  slow,  but  his 
favor  with  the  people  was  undoubtful.  While  he  preached  in 
London  large  and  fashionable  audiences  were  drawn  wher- 
ever he  officiated. 

Finally  he  was  presented  with  an  obscure  country  living, 
and  after  some  delay  went  to  it.  It  was  a  desolate  place, 
far  away  from  all  the  centers  of  intellectual  life,  and  pre- 
vious incumbents  had  resided  away  from  it  for  more  than  a 
century.  He  says,  "  When  I  began  to  thump  the  cushion  of 
my  pulpit,  on  first  coming  to  Foston,  as  is  my  wont  when  I 
preach,  the  accumulated  dust  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  years, 
made  such  a  cloud  that  for  some  minutes  I  lost  sight  of  my 
congregation." 

He  soon  made  a  change  for  the  better  in  all  the  affairs  of 
the  parish ;  built  an  ugly  but  comfortable  parsonage,  and 
won  the  devoted  affection  of  his  people.  lie  passed  much 
of  his  time  in  literary  avocations,  and  after  fourteen  years, 
received  preferment  to  more  desirable  churches.  During  the 
remainder  of  his  life  he  used  his  pen  so  as  to  greatly  increase 
his  already  wide  reputation,  and  became  still  more  noted  as 
a  preacher.  He  was  very  witty,  and  cared  little  for  the 
common  rules  of  sermonizing,  but  had  a  power  and  earnest- 
ness that  compensated  for  every  defect.  The  following  ex- 
tract will  indicate  his  method  of  preparation  : 

"Pulpit  discourses  have  insensibly  dwindled  from  speaking 
to  reading ;  a  practice  which  of  itself  is  sufficient  to  stifle 
every  germ  of  eloquence.  It  is  only  by  the  fresh  feelings  of 
the  heart  that  mankind  can  be  very  powerfully  affected. 
What  can  be  more  ludicrous  than  an  orator  delivering  stale 
indignation  and  fervor  a  week  old  ;  turning  over  whole  pages 
of  violent  passions,  written  out  in  goodly  text ;  reading  the 
tropes  and  apostrophes  into  which  he  is  hurried  by  the  ardor 


EMINENT   SPEAKERS.  169 

of  his  mind ;  and  so  affected  at  a  preconcerted  line  and  page 
that  he  is  unable  to  proceed  any  further !" 


F.    W.    ROBERTSON. 

No  minister  of  the  present  generation  has  lived  a  purer 
life,  or  left  the  stamp  of  his  thought  more  deeply  on  the  public 
mind  than  the  young  incumbent  of  Trinity  Chapel  in  Brigh- 
ton. His  sermons,  not  published  until  after  his  death,  are 
meeting  with  an  unparalleled  sale,  and  every  scrap  of  his 
sermon  preparation,  no  matter  how  fragmentary,  is  seized 
for  the  press  with  the  greatest  avidity.  He  now  addresses 
a  far  larger  and  more  important  audience  than  ever  during 
his  life  time. 

F.  W.  Robertson  was  born  in  1816  and  died  in  1853 — only 
thirty-seven  years  of  age.  He  received  the  traditional  Eng- 
lish education  at  Oxford,  and  had  a  strong  inclination  for  the 
military  profession.  This  he  was  induced  to  renounce  by 
the  expressed  judgment  of  his  father  —  himself  a  military 
officer  —  that  Frederick  was  better  fitted  for  the  Church. 
After  he  had  received  ordination,  he  acted  as  curate  for 
twelve  months  at  Winchester.  His  health  being  by  this 
time  broken,  he  took  a  trip  to  the  continent  under  the  advice 
of  a  physician.  He  was  gone  a  year,  and  during  this  time 
entered  into  marriage.  When  he  returned  he  served  for  four 
years  in  the  parish  of  Cheltenham.  Here  the  field  for  the 
exercise  of  his  talents  was  comparatively  narrow ;  but  many 
persons  were  led  to  a  higher  life  by  his  ministry — many  more 
than  he,  with  his  habitual  self-depreciation,  was  willing  to 
believe  until  years  had  passed.  After  this  he  spent  two 
months  at  St.  Ebbs,  in  Oxford,  receiving  a  miserably  small 
salary.  During  this  short  time  his  talents  became  known, 
and  he  was  offered  the  rich,  aristocratic,  and  intellectual 
church  at  Brighton.  The  offer  was  refused  at  first,  and  was 
only  accepted  at  last  through  the  urgent  solicitation  of  the 
Bishop,  who  felt  that  this  was  his  proper  field.  Here  his 
popularity  became  unbounded.  The  working  people,  who 


170  EXTEMPORE  SPEAKING. 

had  almost  deserted  the  Establishment,  flocked  to  hear  his 
bold,  true  words.     His  biographer  says : 

"  His  eloquence  and  originality  could  not  fail  to  be  marked. 
And  if  the  congregation  was  intellectual  he  was  pre-emi- 
nently so.  The  chapel  became  crowded.  Sittings  were 
scarcely  ever  to  be  had.  For  six  years  the  enthusiasm  never 
slackened;  it  grew  and  spread  silently  and  steadily,  and 
when  he  died  broke  out  in  a  burst  of  universal  sorrow.  .  .  . 
But  he  put  no  faith  in  mere  excitement,  the  eager  upturned 
face,  the  still  hush  of  attention.  '  What  is  ministerial  success  ?' 
he  asks.  '  Crowded  churches — full  aisles — attentive  congrega- 
tion— the  approval  of  the  religious  world — much  impression 
produced  ?  Elijah  thought  so ;  and  when  he  found  out  his 
mistake,  and  discovered  that  the  applause  of  Carmel  sub- 
sided into  hideous  stillness,  his  heart  well  nigh  broke  with 
disappointment  Ministerial  success  lies  in  altered  lives,  and 
obedient  humble  hearts;  unseen  work  recognized  in  the 
judgment  day.' " 

That  success  was  his.     James  Anderson  says : 

"I  cannot  count  up  conquests  in  any  place  or  by  any 
man  so  numerous  and  so  vast — conquests  achieved  in  so  short 
a  period,  and  in  many  instances  over  the  hearts  and  con- 
sciences of  those  whom,  from  their  age  or  pursuits,  it  is  al- 
ways most  difficult  to  reach — as  were  the  conquests  of  that 
devoted  soldier  of  the  cross  of  Christ." 

But  his  labors  were  too  great  for  his  strength.  For  at 
least  two  years  before  his  death  he  preached  in  continual 
pain,  and  yet  there  was  no  abatement  in  his  power.  Many 
of  the  sermons  by  which  he  is  best  known  were  then  pro- 
duced. We  can  scarcely  realize  as  we  read  his  calm  sen- 
tences, radiant  with  beauty,  and  full  of  profound  thought, 
that  they  were  spoken  during  the  ravages  of  a  cerebral  dis- 
ease, that  was  soon  to  still  his  eloquent  voice  forever.  When 
he  died,  having  preached  almost  to  the  last,  the  city  (con- 
taining sixty  thousand  inhabitants)  was  draped  in  gloom, 
and  mourning  was  universal.  A  monument  was  erected,  to 
which  the  working-men  contributed  a  touching  memorial. 

The  manner  in  which  so  many  of  Robertson's  sermons 
were  preserved,  is,  when  we  consider  his  manner  of  preaching, 


EMINENT   SPEAKERS.  171 

very  remarkable.  He  spoke  extempore,  and  never  wrote  out 
a  sermon  before  delivery.  His  leading  thoughts  were  indi- 
cated by  short  notes,  and  the  whole  subject  was  carefully 
arranged  in  his  own  mind.  But  his  words  and  his  most 
powerful  illustrations  sprang  from  the  inspiration  of  the  mo- 
ment. Usually  he  took  a  small  piece  of  paper  containing  the 
headings  of  his  thoughts  with  him  into  the  pulpit,  but  never 
referred  to  it  after  the  first  few  moments  had  passed.  His 
sympathizing  biographer  thus  describes  him : 

"  So  entirely  was  his  heart  in  his  work,  that  in  public 
speaking  especially,  he  lost  sight  of  everything  but  his  sub- 
ject. His  self-consciousness  vanished.  He  did  not  choose 
his  words  or  think  about  his  thoughts.  He  not  only  pos- 
sessed, but  was  possessed  by  his  idea ;  and  when  all  was 
over  and  the  reaction  came,  he  had  forgotten  like  a  dream, 
words,  illustrations,  almost  everything.  .  .  .  After  some 
of  his  most  earnest  and  passionate  utterances,  he  has  said  to 
a  friend  :  *  Have  I  made  a  fool  of  myself  ?' 

"If  the  most  conquering  eloquence  for  the  English  people 
be  that  of  the  man  who  is  all  but  mastered  by  his  excitement, 
but  who,  at  the  very  point  of  being  mastered,  masters  him- 
self— apparently  cool,  while  he  is  at  white  heat — so  as  to 
make  the  audience  glow  with  tire,  and  at  the  same  time  re- 
spect the  self-possessed  power  of  the  orator — the  man  being 
always  felt  as  greater  than  the  man's  feelings — if  that  be  the 
eloquence  that  most  tells  upon  the  English  nation,  he  had 
that  eloquence.  He  spoke  under  tremendous  excitement, 
but  it  was  excitement  reined  in  by  will.  He  held  in  his  hand 
a  small  piece  of  paper  with  a  few  notes  on  it  when  he  began. 
He  referred  to  it  now  and  then ;  but  before  ten  minutes  had 
gone  by  it  was  crushed  to  uselessness  in  his  grasp ;  for  he 
knit  his  fingers  together  over  it,  as  he  knit  his  words  over 
thought.  His  gesture  was  subdued ;  sometimes  a  slow  mo- 
tion of  his  hand  upward ;  sometimes  bending  forward,  his 
hand  drooping  over  the  pulpit ;  sometimes  erecting  himself 
to  his  full  height  with  a  sudden  motion,  as  if  upraised  by  the 
power  of  the  thought  he  spoke.  His  voice — a  musical,  low, 
penetrative  voice — seldom  rose ;  and  when  it  did  it  was  in  a 
deep  volume  of  sound  which  was  not  loud,  but  toned  like  a 
great  bell.  It  thrilled  also,  but  that  was  not  so  much  from 
feeling  as  from  the  repression  of  feeling.  Toward  the  close 
of  his  ministry  he  was  wont  to  stand  almost  motionlessly 


172  EXTEMPORE  SPEAKING. 

erect  in  the  pulpit,  with  his  hands  loosely  lying  by  his  side, 
or  grasping  his  gown.  His  pale,  thin  face  and  tall,  emaci- 
ated form,  seeming,  as  he  spoke,  to  be  glowing  as  alabaster 
glows  when  lit  up  by  an  inward  fire.  And,  indeed,  brain 
and  heart  were  on  fire.  He  Avas  being  self-consumed.  Every 
sermon  in  those  latter  days  burned  up  a  portion  of  his  vital 
power." 

But  though  thus  surrounded  by  an  admiring  congregation, 
and  weekly  giving  out  thoughts  that  were  worthy  of  still 
wider  notice,  when  some  of  his  people,  who  realized  that  his 
words  were  too  precious  to  die,  raised  a  subscription  to  em- 
ploy a  short-hand  reporter,  with  a  view  to  the  publication  of 
his  sermons,  he  refused  to  sanction  the  scheme,  aud  wrote 
the  parties  a  characteristic  letter,  telling  them  that  he  had 
no  time  to  correct,  and,  without  it,  the  discourses  were  not 
fit  to  be  given  to  the  public.  Yet  a  number  were  preserved 
in  this  way,  and  though  not  published  until  after  his  death, 
they  are  almost  faultless  in  form  and  expression.  Other  ser- 
mons were  written  out  briefly  by  himself,  after  beinsj;  preached, 
for  the  use  of  some  private  friends.  It  was  thus  that  those 
almost  incomparable  discourses  were  preserved,  which  are 
without  doubt  the  most  valuable  contribution  that  has  been 
made  to  their  department  of  literature  during  the  present 
century. 

We  will  give  two  extracts  showing  the  power  that  may  be 
wielded  over  language  without  the  use  of  the  pen.  The  first 
is  from  a  speech  made  to  a  workingman's  institute  opposing 
the  introduction  of  infidel  works  into  their  library.  He  is 
speaking  of  the  compassion  that  should  be  shown  to  the 
honest  doubter : 

"  I  do  think  that  the  way  we  treat  that  state  is  unpardon- 
ably  cruel.  It  is  an  awful  moment  when  the  soul  begins  to 
find  that  the  props  on  which  it  has  blindly  rested  so  long 
are  many  of  them  rotten,  and  begins  to  suspect  them  all ; 
when  it  begins  to  feel  the  nothingness  of  many  of  the  tradi- 
tionary opinions  which  have  been  received  with  implicit  con- 
fidence, and  in  that  horrible  insecurity  begins  also  to  doubt 
whether  there  be  anything  to  believe  at  all.  It  is  an  awful 
hour — let  him  who  has  passed  through  it  say  how  awful — 


EMINENT   SPEAKERS.  173 

when  this  life  has  lost  its  meaning,  and  seems  shriveled  into 
a  span ;  when  the  grave  appears  to  be  the  end  of  all,  human 
goodness  nothing  but  a  name,  and  the  sky  above  this  universe 
a  dead  expanse,  black  with  the  void  from  which  God  Himself 
has  disappeared.  ...  I  appeal  (for  the  truth  of  the  pic- 
ture drawn)  to  the  recollection  of  any  man  who  has  passed 
through  that  hour  of  agony,  and  stood  upon  the  rock  at  last, 
the  surges  stilled  below  him,  and  the  last  cloud  drifted  from 
the  sky  above,  with  a  faith,  and  hope,  and  trust,  no  longer 
traditional,  but  of  his  own,  a  trust  which  neither  earth  nor 
hell  shall  shake  thenceforth  for  ever." 

The  second  passage  we  will  quote  is  an  illustration  from  a 
sermon  on  the  doubt  of  Thomas,  showing  how  weak  are  all 
arguments  for  immortality,  except  those  that  are  exclusively 
Christian.  He  speaks  of  many  things  that  are  valuable  as 
suggestions,  but  worthless  as  proofs,  and  next  shows  how 
the  same  suggestions  may  point  the  other  way : 

"  Six  thousand  years  of  human  existence  have  passed  away. 
Countless  armies  of  the  dead  have  set  sail  from  the  shores 
of  time.  No  traveler  has  returned  from  the  still  land  be- 
yond. More  than  one  hundred  and  fifty  generations  have 
done  their  work  and  sunk  into  the  dust  again,  and  still 
there  is  not  a  voice,  there  is  not  a  whisper  from  the  grave  to 
tell  us  whether,  indeed,  those  myriads  are  in  existence 
still.  Besides,  why  should  they  be  ?  Talk  as  you  will  of 
the  grandeur  of  man ;  why  should  it  not  be  honor  enough 
for  him — more  than  enough  to  satisfy  a  thing  so  mean — to 
have  had  his  twenty  or  seventy  years  life-rent  of  God's  uni- 
verse ?  Why  must  such  a  thing,  apart  from  proof,  rise  up 
and  claim  to  himself  an  exclusive  immortality  ?  .  .  .  . 
Why  may  he  not  sink,  after  he  has  played  his  appointed 
part,  into  nothingness  again  ?  You  see  the  leaves  sinking 
one  by  one  in  autumn,  till  the  heaps  below  are  rich  with  the 
spoils  of  a  whole  year's  vegetation.  They  were  bright  and 
perfect  while  they  lasted,  each  leaf  a  miracle  of  beauty  and 
contrivance.  There  is  no  resurrection  for  the  leaves — why 
should  there  be  one  for  man  ?  Go  and  stand,  some  summer 
evening,  by  the  river  side ;  you  will  see  the  May-fly  sporting 
out  its  little  hour  in  the  dense  masses  of  insect  life,  darken- 
ing the  air  a  few  feet  above  the  gentle  swell  of  the  water. 
The  heat  of  that  very  afternoon  brought  them  into  existence. 
Every  gauze  wing  is  traversed  by  ten  thousand  fibres,  which 


174  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKIXO. 

defy  the  microscope  to  find  a  flaw  in  their  perfection.  The 
omniscience  and  the  care  bestowed  upon  that  exquisite  anat- 
omy, one  would  think  cannot  be  destined  to  be  wasted  in  a 
moment.  Yet  so  it  is.  When  the  sun  has  sunk  below  the 
trees  its  little  life  is  done.  Yesterday  it  was  not ;  to  mor- 
row it  will  not  be.  God  hafl  bidden  it  be  happy  for  one 
evening.  It  has  no  right  or  claim  to  a  second ;  and  in  the 
universe  that  marvelous  life  has  appeared  once  and  will  ap- 
pear no  more.  May  not  the  race  of  man  sink  like  the  gene- 
rations of  the  May-fly  ?  Why  cannot  the  Creator,  so  lavish 
in  His  resources,  afford  to  annihilate  souls  as  He  annihilates 
insects  ?  Would  it  not  almost  enhance  His  glory  to  believe 
it?" 

Such  language  Robertson  was  able  to  employ  without  the 
use  of  the  pen.  But  the  art  was  not  attained  without  a  long 
and  laborious  toil.  He  committed  much — memorizing  the 
whole  Testament,  both  in  English  and  Greek,  and  storing 
his  mind  with  innumerable  gems  from  the  poets.  He  also 
studied  the  modern  languages,  particularly  German,  and  de- 
lighted to  translate  their  treasure  into  his  own  tongue.  He 
read  much,  but  not  rapidly,  dwelling  upon  a  book  until  he 
could  arrange  the  whole  of  its  contents  with  precision  in  his 
mind.  Thus  he  attained  an  almost  unequalled  mastery  of 
both  thought  and  language.  If  he  had  been  required  to  write 
every  sermon,  he  could  never  have  pursued  such  a  thorough 
and  long  continued  course  of  cultivation,  besides  mastering 
such  a  vast  amount  of  knowledge. 

We  have  dwelt  less  upon  the  general  character  of  his 
preaching,  with  its  strong  originality,  than  upon  the  beauty, 
force,  and  accuracy  of  his  language,  because  these  are  the 
qualities  usually  believed  to  be  unattainable  without  written 
composition.  But  it  is  safe  to  say,  that  in  these  respects  he 
has  not  been  surpassed  by  any  preacher  ancient  or  modern. 

HENRY    CLA.T. 

We  will  take  Henry  Clay  as  an  example  of  the  American 
political  eloquence  of  the  last  generation.  He  was  one  of  a 
bright  constellation  of  great  men — most  of  them,  like  himself, 
extemporaneous  speakers.  In  some  respects  he  was,  perhaps, 


EMINENT   SPEAKERS.  175 

superior  to  them  all.  His  hold  upon  the  public  mind  was 
great,  and  even  yet  he  is  regarded  with  love  and  reverence 
all  over  the  Union.  This,  however,  is  not  the  result  of  his 
genius  alone.  In  some  points  his  great  rivals  were  more  un- 
fortunate than  himself.  Calhoun's  influence  was  immense ; 
but  the  effect  of  his  teaching  has  been  so  deadly  that  it  is 
not  to  be  wondered  at  if  his  fame  is  of  an  equivocal  kind. 
The  badness  of  Webster's  private  life,  and  his  unfortunate 
course  on  some  great  questions,  caused  his  reputation  to 
decline,  and  his  really  great  abilities  to  be  undervalued. 
But  the  genial,  large-hearted  orator  of  the  West  is  still  a 
favorite  with  the  people. 

Clay  was  a  Virginian  by  birth.  His  father  was  a  Baptist 
preacher,  very  poor,  who  died  when  Henry  was  quite  young, 
leaving  a  large  family  of  children.  Henry  obtained  all  his 
schooling,  which  was  meager  enough,  in  a  log  school-house. 
The  young  boy  was  employed  first  as  a  clerk  in  a  store,  and 
afterward  as  an  assistant  in  a  lawyer's  office.  Next  he  be- 
came an  amanuensis  to  Chancellor  Wythe,  who  treated  him 
kindly  and  gave  him  an  opportunity  to  study  law.  Finally, 
he  was  admitted  to  the  bar,  and  removed  to  Kentucky.  He 
immediately  acquired  practice,  and  met  with  a  hearty  wel- 
come from  the  rough  backwoodsmen  of  that  section.  He 
tells  us  how  he  acquired  the  ability  to  speak  with  fluency 
and  power: 

"I  owe  my  success  in  life  to  one  simple  fact,  namely,  that 
at  an  early  age  I  commenced  and  continued  for  some  years 
the  practice  of  daily  reading  and  speaking  the  contents  of 
some  historical  or  scientific  book.  These  oif-hand  efforts 
were  sometimes  made  in  a  corn-field ;  at  others  in  the  forest ; 
and  not  unfrequently  in  some  barn,  with  the  horse  and  ox 
for  my  only  auditors.  It  is  to  this  early  practice  of  the  art 
of  all  arts  that  I  am  indebted  for  the  primary  and  leading 
impulses  that  stimulated  my  progress  and  have  shaped  and 
molded  my  destiny." 

An  amusing  instance  is  given  of  Clay's  first  attempt  at 
debate.  He  was  so  much  embarrassed  that  he  forgot  where 
he  was,  and  called  the  chairman  "  Gentlemen  of  the  Jury." 


170  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 

Yet  when  this  difficulty  had  been  overcome,  he  soon  made  a 
powerful  impression.  In  fact  it  was  spoken  of  by  some  as 
not  inferior  to  any  of  the  addresses  in  which  he  achieved  a 
national  fame.  The  policy  of  emancipation  was  then  under 
debate  in  Kentucky,  and  young  Clay  gave  it  his  full  sup- 
port. But  although  he  had  almost  unbounded  influence  on 
any  other  subject,  the  people  of  his  State  loved  slavery  better 
than  any  man,  and  the  measure  was  defeated. 

The  vast  power  of  Clay  as  an  orator  was  early  displayed. 
When  only  twenty-two  years  of  age  he,  with  another  very 
able  speaker,  addressed  a  popular  meeting.  While  the  other 
spoke  there  was  great  applause  and  deafening  acclamations, 
but  Clay's  address  was  so  much  more  thrilling  and  effective, 
that  the  popular  feeling  became  too  deep  for  utterance,  and 
he  closed  amid  unbroken  silence.  It  was  some  moments  be- 
fore the  crowd  recovered  sufficiently  to  give  vent,  in  thun- 
dering cheers,  to  the  emotion  that  he  had  kindled. 

It  is  hardly  necessary  to  follow  the  career  of  Clay  through 
all  the  years  that  were  devoted  to  the  public  service,  for  the 
country  is  still  familiar  with  it.  Many  of  the  measures  with 
which  he  was  connected  may  not  meet  our  approval,  but  no 
one  will  question  the  honesty  of  his  motives,  or  the  ability 
with  which  they  were  advocated.  In  Congress  he  had 
scarcely  a  rival.  Calhoun  was  equally  active,  and  more 
logical,  but  had  not  the  magic  of  voice  and  eye,  the  nameless 
graces  of  delivery  that  distinguished  the  Kentucky  orator. 
Webster  spoke  more  like  a  giant,  but  was  hard  to  call  out 
in  his  full  force,  and  on  ordinary  occasions  did  not  speak 
nearly  as  well  as  Clay.  The  voice  of  the  latter  was  an  in- 
strument of  great  power,  and  he  well  knew  how  to  use  it. 
"Nature,"  he  said  on  one  occasion,  referring  to  an  effort 
made  years  before,  "  had  singularly  favored  me  by  giving  me 
a  voice  peculiarly  adapted  to  produce  the  effects  I  wished  in 
public  speaking.  Now,"  he  added,  "its  melody  is  changed, 
its  sweetness  gone."  These  words  were  pronounced  as  if  in 
mockery,  in  tones  of  exquisite  sweetness.  One  who  had 
heard  him  often,  says : 


EMINENT  SPEAKERS.  177 

"Mr.  Clay's  voice  has  prodigious  power,  compass,  and 
richness ;  all  its  variations  are  captivating,  but  some  of  its 
base  tones  thrill  through  one's  whole  frame.  To  those  who 
have  never  heard  the  living  melody,  no  verbal  description 
can  convey  an  adequate  idea  of  the  diversified  effects  of 
those  intonations  which,  in  one  strain  of  sentiment,  fall  in 
whispering  gentleness  like  the  first  words  of  love  upon  a 
maiden's  lips,  and  anon  in  sterner  utterances  ring  with  the 
maddening  music  of  the  main." 

A  gentleman  who  witnessed  an  oratorical  encounter  be- 
tween Clay  and  Webster  describes  it  as  inconceivably  grand  : 

"  The  eloquence  of  Mr.  Webster  was  the  majestic  roar  of 
a  strong  and  steady  blast  pealing  through  the  forest ;  but 
that  of  Mr.  Clay  was  the  tone  of  a  god-like  instrument,  some- 
times visited  by  an  angel  touch,  and  swept  anon  by  all  the 
fury  of  the  raging  elements." 

Clay,  Webster  and  Calhoun  were  all  extempore  speakers. 
Webster  sometimes  prepared  very  elaborately,  but  never 
confined  himself  to  his  preparation.  And  some  of  his  very 
best  efforts  were  made  on  the  spur  of  the  moment  when  cir- 
cumstances conspired  to  arouse  his  vast  but  somewhat  slug- 
gish genius.  Both  the  others  prepared  their  discourses  in 
thought  alone,  and  those  who  were  obliged  to  rely  on  their 
manuscripts  or  their  memories  stood  no  chance  at  all  with 
them  in  the  fiery  debates  through  which  they  passed. 

HENRY   B.    BASCOM. 

It  may  be  doubted  whether  the  late  Bishop  Bascom  is 
properly  classed  among  extempore  preachers.  His  mode  of 
preparation  certainly  bordered  on  the  memoriter  plan.  But 
he  did  not  write.  He  would  first  construct  a  skeleton, 
usually  very  simple,  and  then  throw  each  point  into  words 
mentally.  His  memory  was  very  great,  and  the  fine  expres- 
sions he  coined,  as  he  rode  through  the  forest  or  meditated  in 
his  study,  were  impressed  on  his  mind  so  strongly  as  to  be 
recalled  afterward.  It  was  a  common  practice  with  him  to 
repeat  his  sermons  over  and  over  again  to  himself,  till  every 
line  of  thought  and  every  strong  expression  became  perfectly 


178  EXTEMPORE  SPEAKING. 

familiar.  Bascom  once  stopped  at  a  backwoodsman's  house, 
and  left  it  to  take  a  short  walk.  Soon  a  neighbor  came  rush- 
ing in,  declaring  that  he  had  seen  a  crazy  man  walking  back 
and  forth  on  the  edge  of  the  woods,  swinging  his  arms  wildly, 
and  muttering  to  himself  in  a  strange  manner.  The  neigh- 
bor was  told  not  to  be  alarmed,  but  to  come  to  church  the 
next  day  and  he  would  see  the  crazy  man  again.  He  did 
so,  and  listened  to  strains  of  eloquence  as  admirable  as  ever 
charmed  his  ear. 

The  sermons  which  were  thus  prepared,  were  preached  a 
great  number  of  times,  and  each  time  reviewed  and  improved. 
Bascom  traveled  a  vast  extent  of  country,  and  the  sermons 
which  thus  combined  all  the  strength  of  his  really  powerful 
mind,  for  years  together,  soon  became  famous.  Probably 
no  preacher  ever  did  so  much  with  so  few  discourses. 

His  delivery  was  wonderful.  Henry  Clay,  who  was  well 
qualified  to  judge,  pronounced  him  the  finest  natural  orator 
he  had  ever  heard.  His  form  was  almost  perfect,  his  carriage 
noble  and  graceful,  every  movement  light  and  springy,  so 
that,  as  some  of  his  hearers  have  declared,  "  he  scarcely 
seemed  to  touch  the  ground."  He  dressed  with  great  taste, 
and  on  this  account  was  often  objected  to  by  the  early  Meth- 
odists, and  came  very  nearly  being  refused  admission  into  his 
Conference.  But  he  soon  became  a  general  favorite  with 
the  people,  who  would  throng  to  hear  him  from  the  whole 
country  for  miles  around.  When  he  entered  the  pulpit  he 
seemed  nearly  borne  down  by  the  weight  of  his  accumula- 
tions, and  it  was  only  after  he  had  begun  to  make  headway 
that  he  became  easy  and  self-possessed.  Then  he  poured 
forth  torrent  after  torrent  of  highly  wrought  eloquence,  until 
the  hearers  were  lost  in  admiration  of  the  vast  powers  he 
displayed. 

A  very  partial  biographer  considers  it  as  very  strange 
that  he  took  but  little  part  in  any  Conference  discussions, 
or  debates  on  general  topics.  The  truth  is,  that  with 
his  mode  of  preparation,  carried  as  far  as  he  carried  it,  he 
could  not.  There  was  no  time  to  forecast  his  sentences,  and 


EMINENT   SPEAKERS.  179 

slowly  build  up  a  gorgeous  fabric,  and  he  therefore  remained 
silent. 

He  had  a  mighty  imagination,  and  could  so  represent  any 
object  he  undertook  to  describe,  that  it  would  live  before  the 
eyes  of  his  hearers.  But  he  cared  so  much  for  beauty  that 
he  wandere-d  too  far  from  his  way  to  seek  it,  and  the  conse- 
quence was  that  the  object  of  his  discourse 

"  Passed  in  music  out  of  sight," 

and  his  hearers  after  recovering  from  their  rapture  and  as- 
tonishment remained  as  they  were  before.  He  drew  vast 
audiences  together,  wrought  effectually  for  the  building  up 
of  some  colleges,  collected  much  money  for  various  agencies, 
was  made  a  Bishop  of  the  M.  E.  Church,  South,  in  compli- 
ment to  his  eloquence,  but  in  real  work  was  far  inferior  to 
many  a  Methodist  minister  whose  name  is  unknown  to  fame. 

JOHN    SUMHERFIELD. 

The  eloquence  of  the  good  and  noble,  but  early  fallen 
Summerfield  was  in  sharp  contrast  with  that  of  Bascom.  A 
lady  who  had  hea-rd  them  both,  gave  the  preference,  in  some 
neat  verses,  to  the  latter,  on  the  ground  that  he  was  more 
grand,  awe-inspiring,  and  tempest-like.  The  melody  and 
pathos  of  Summerfield  she  compared  to  the  mild  zephyr, 
and  thought  this  was  necessarily  inferior  to  the  earth- 
shaking  storm.  But  the  world  has  not  agreed  with  her. 
Bascom  held  assembled  thousands  for  hours  beneath  the 
charm  of  his  voice,  weeping,  smiling,  or  shouting,  at  his  will. 
Yet  when  all  had  passed,  and  the  spell  had  been  dissolved, 
the  only  impression  that  remained  was  one  of  simple  wonder. 
The  man  and  his  own  eloquence  had  risen  so  far  above  the 
subject  he  was  to  enunciate  that  the  latter  faded  from  the 
mind.  More  earnestness  for  truth  and  sympathy  with  it, 
would  have  enhanced  his  real  power  a  hundredfold. 

But  it  was  very  different  with  Summerfield.  His  soul  was 
full  of  earnestness,  and  he  moved  in  an  atmosphere  of  tender- 
ness and  pathos.  The  eloquence  of  the  great  Whitetield 


180  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 

might  be  compared  to  the  whirlwind,  prostrating  everything 
in  its  path ;  that  of  Bascom  to  an  iceberg  glowing  in  the  rays 
of  the  morning  sun,  displaying  a  thousand  colors,  but  cold 
and  impassive  ;  and  that  of  Summerfield  to  the  light  of  the 
sun,  calm  and  genial,  shining  on  fields  of  green,  filling  the 
air  with  life  and  light.  His  speech  was  simple,  easy,  and  un- 
adorned, flowing  right  out  of  his  own  heart,  and  awakening 
an  answering  echo  in  the  hearts  of  all  who  heard.  The  ser- 
mons which  he  has  left  are  mere  fragments — sketches  such  as 
he  employed  in  his  preparation,  and  of  course  give  no  idea 
of  the  real  power  he  wielded. 

Stephens  thus  describes  his  method  of  preparation : 

"  Though  in  the  delivery  of  his  sermons  there  was  this 
facility — felicity  we  might  call  it — in  their  preparation  he 
was  a  laborious  student.  He  was  a  hearty  advocate  of  ex- 
tempore preaching,  and  would  have  been  deprived  of  most 
of  his  popular  power  in  the  pulpit  by  being  confined  to  a 
manuscript;  yet  he  knew  the  importance  of  study,  and  par- 
ticularly of  the  habitual  use  of  the  pen  in  order  to  success  in 
extemporaneous  speaking.  His  own  rule  was  to  prepare  a 
skeleton  of  his  sermon,  and  after  preaching  it,  write  it  out 
in  fuller  detail,  filling  up  the  original  sketch  with  the  princi- 
pal thoughts  which  had  occurred  to  him  in  the  process  of 
the  discourse.  The  first  outline  was,  however,  in  accordance 
with  the  rule  we  have  elsewhere  given  for  extempore  speak- 
ing, viz.,  that  the  perspective  of  the  entire  discourse — the 
leading  ideas,  from  the  exordium  to  the  peroration — should 
be  noted  on  the  manuscript,  so  that  the  speaker  shall  have 
the  assurance  that  he  is  supplied  with  a  consecutive  series 
of  good  ideas,  good  enough  to  command  the  respect  of  his 
audience,  though  he  should  fail  of  any  very  important  im- 
promptu thoughts.  This  rule  we  deem  the  most  essential 
condition  of  success  in  extemporaneous  preaching.  It  is  the 
best  guarantee  of  that  confidence  and  self-possession  upon 
which  depends  the  command  of  both  thought  and  language. 
Summerfield  followed  it  even  in  his  platform  speeches.  Mont- 
gomery notices  the  minuteness  of  his  preparations  in  nearly 
two  hundred  manuscript  sketches." 

This  great  man  died  at  the  very  early  age  of  twenty-seven, 
having  preached  seven  years.  But  from  the  very  first  he 
produced  a  profound  impression.  Dr.  Bethune  thus  describes 


EMINENT   SPEAKERS.  181 

one  of  his  earliest  efforts  in  this  country.  He  was  then 
scarcely  known.  It  was  at  an  anniversary  of  the  Bible 
Society,  and  an  able  man  had  just  spoken  with  great  ac- 
ceptance : 

"The  chair  announced  the  Rev.  Mr.  Surnmerfield,  from 
England.  'What  presumption!'  said  my  clerical  neigh- 
bor ;  '  a  boy  like  that  to  be  set  up  after  a  giant !'  But  the 
stripling  came  in  the  name  of  the  God  of  Israel,  armed  with 
'  a  few  smooth  stones  from  the  brook '  that  flows  '  hard  by 
the  oracles  of  God.'  His  motion  was  one  of  thanks  to  the 
officers  of  the  society  for  their  labors  during  the  year ;  and 
of  course  he  had  to  allude  to  the  president,  then  reposing  in 
another  part  of  the  house ;  and  thus  he  did  it :  '  When  I  saw 
that  venerable  man,  too  aged  to  warrant  the  hope  of  being 
with  you  at  another  anniversary,  he  reminded  me  of  Jacob 
leaning  upon  the  top  of  his  staff,  blessing  his  children  before  he 
departed?  He  then  passed  on  to  encourage  the  society  by 
the  example  of  the  British  institution.  '  When  we  first 
launched  our  untried  vessel  upon  the  deep,  the  storms  of  op- 
position roared,  and  the  waves  dashed  angrily  around  us, 
and  we  had  hard  work  to  keep  her  head  to  thfc  wind.  We 
were  faint  with  rowing,  and  our  strength  would  soon  have 
been  gone,  but  we  cried,  '  Lord,  save  us,  or  we  perish ! ' 
Then  a  light  shone  upon  the  waters,  and  we  saw  a  form  walking 
upon  the  troubled  sea,  like  unto  that  of  the  Son  of  God,  and  he 
drew  near  the  ship,  and  we  knew  that  it  was  Jesus  ;  and  he  step- 
ped upon  the  deckf  and  laid  his  hand  upon  the  helm,  and  he  said 
unto  the  winds  and  waves,  Peace,  be  still,  and  there  was  a  great 
calm.  Let  not  the  friends  of  the  Bible  fear ;  God  is  in  the 
midst  of  us.  God  shall  help  us,  and  that  right  early.'  In 
such  a  strain  he  went  on  to  the  close.  '  Wonderful !  wonder- 
ful !'  said  my  neighbor  the  critic ;  i  he  talks  like  an  angel 
from  heaven.' " 

C.    H.    SPTTRGEON. 

No  minister  now  living  has  been  heard  by  so  many  people 
in  the  same  number  of  years,  or  has  been  the  subject  of  so 
much  controversy  as  Spurgeon.  The  great  populace  of  Lon- 
don has  been  moved  to  its  depths  by  his  preaching,  and  he 
has  met  with  the  same  enthusiastic  reception  wherever  he 
has  preached.  He  is  yet  very  young — only  thirty-four  years 


182  EXTEMPORE  SPEAKING. 

of  age — and  had  become  celebrated  before  he  was  twenty- 
one.  Such  speedy  recognition  is  certainly  a  proof  of  great 
merit,  and  his  example  is  well  worth  our  attention. 

Spurgeon's  parents  were  poor  but  respectable — his  father 
and  grandfather  being  Independent  ministers.  He  early  felt 
it  his  duty  to  preach,  and  even  when  a  child  was  accustomed 
to  preach  to  his  playmates.  His  father  wished  him  to  go  to 
college  to  qualify  himself  for  the  work  in  regular  form,  but 
after  giving  the  matter  careful  consideration  he  declined. 
Even  when  he  became  usher  at  Cambridge,  and  began  to 
preach  occasionally,  he  refused  the  tempting  offer  of  a  college 
course,  and  gave  it  as  his  opinion  that  he  was  called  to  go  to 
the  work  at  once,  and  not  to  waste  years  in  preparation. 
We  can  hardly  tell  what  effect  a  long  course  of  training, 
that  would  have  allowed  time  for  his  fervid  zeal  to  cool, 
would  have  had  upon  his  after  life.  About  the  same  time 
he  left  the  church  of  his  fathers  and  united  with  the  Baptists, 
believing  that  immersion  was  the  proper  baptism.  His  oc- 
casional ministrations  were  marked  by  modesty  and  good 
sense,  as  well  as  loving  earnestness. 

He  was  soon  called  to  take  charge  of  an  old,  but  decayed 
church  in  London.  Its  forlorn  condition  did  not  dismay 
him,  and  under  his  vigorous  care  and  mighty  preaching  the 
congregation  became  overflowing.  The  building  was  en- 
larged, but  the  congregation  grew  still  larger.  Immense 
public  halls  were  taken,  and  these  too  were  soon  overflowed. 
His  congregation  built  a  new  church  of  extraordinary  size, 
which  has  been  packed  full  on  each  preaching  occasion  ever 
since.  Several  volumes  of  his  sermons  have  been  published, 
and  have  met  with  a  ready  sale.  He  preaches  nearly  a  ser- 
mon a  day,  corresponds  with  a  newspaper,  writes  books,  su- 
perintends a  ministerial  school,  speaks  for  and  aids  a  number 
of  charitable  institutions— altogether  performing  more  labor 
than  perhaps  any  other  preacher  of  our  day.  Yet  these  mul- 
tiform labors  are  performed  with  such  ease  and  certainty 
that  he  hardly  ever  appears  tired,  and  gives  no  indication 
of  breaking  down. 


EMINENT   SPEAKERS.  183 

What  is  the  secret  of  the  power  by  which  this  man  has 
reached  the  hearts  of  the  poor  more  fully  than  any  other  man 
for  many  years  ?  It  is  admitted  on  all  hands  that  he  is  not 
a  man  of  profound  intellect.  There  is  no  trace  of  unusual 
powers  of  thought  either  in  his  published  or  spoken  ser- 
mons. But  there  is  a  more  than  ordinary  force  of  arrange- 
ment, illustration  and  expression.  He  may  not  be  in  the  first 
class  of  great  men,  but  he  is  surely  foremost  in  the  second 
class.  He  also  possesses  wonderful  enthusiasm.  His  faith  is 
too  clear  for  a  doubt,  and  he  is  never  troubled  with  any  mis- 
givings regarding  his  own  power  of  presenting  the  truth. 
Confidence  is  a  part  of  his  nature,  and  enables  him  to  bear 
unmoved  any  amount  of  opposition,  and,  while  preaching,  to 
follow  out  any  suggestions  of  his  genius.  His  power  of  lan- 
guage is  very  great.  From  beginning  to  end  of  his  discourse 
he  never  falters,  nor  uses  the  wrong  word.  His  voice  is 
strong,  clear,  and  melodious,  making  the  tritest  thought  in- 
teresting. But  above  all,  he  is  a  good  man,  and  works  solely 
for  the  good  of  his  hearers.  This  is  the  reason  why  he  is  not 
intoxicated  by  his  great  success.  He  feels  that  the  Holy 
Spirit  labors  with  him,  and  that  the  blessing  of  God  rests 
upon  him. 

Spurgeon  is  an  extempore  preacher  in  the  best  sense  of  the 
word.  He  studies  and  meditates  as  fully  as  his  time  will 
permit,  and  at  any  period  is  ready  to  give  what  he  thus  mas- 
ters to  the  public.  "  I  can't  make  out,"  said  a  minister  to 
him,  u  when  you  study,  Brother  Spurgeon.  When  do  you 
make  your  sermons  ?"  "  Oh !"  he  replied,  "  I  am  always 
studying — I  am  sucking  in  something  from  everything.  If 
you  were  to  ask  me  home  to  dine  with  you,  I  should  suck  a 
sermon  out  of  you."  One  who  had  known  him,  thus  writes: 

"  With  respect  to  his  habits  of  composition,  he  assured  us 
that  not  one  word  of  his  sermons  is  written  before  delivery, 
and  that  the  only  use  he  makes  of  his  pen  upon  them  is  to 
correct  the  errors  of  the  stenographer.  His  happy  faculty 
of  mere  mental  composition,  and  of  remembering  what  he 
thus  composes,  saves  him  much  time  and  drudgery.  He  can 


184  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 

exercise  it  anywhere ;  but  probably  with  more  success  in  the 
pulpit,  while  he  is  giving  utterance  to  what  he  has  prear- 
ranged in  his  mind.  Learning  not  to  read  manuscript  out 
of  the  pulpit  is  the  best  preparation  for  not  reading  it  in  the 
pulpit,  and  he  who  in  his  study  can  think  well,  independently 
of  it,  will,  in  the  pulpit,  think  better  without  it;  for  the  ex- 
citement occasioned  by  speaking  what  he  has  premeditated— 
if  that  excitement  does  not  produce  too  deep  feeling — will 
summon  new  thoughts  to  fill  up  the  old  ranks,  and  lead  whole 
divisions  of  fresh  recruits  into  the  field." 

The  almost  irresistible  attraction  of  Spurgeon's  ministra- 
tions may  he  inferred  from  the  following  facts : 

"It  was  no  unusual  sight  on  a  Sunday  evening  to  see  pla- 
cards put  up  outside  of  the  building  (Exeter  Hall)  announcing 
that  it  was  full,  and  that  no  more  could  be  admitted.  In  his 
own  church  it  has  been  found  necessary  for  the  police  to  be 
present  at  every  service,  and  the  pew-holders  are  admitted  by 
ticket  through  a  side  door.  This  accomplished,  at  ten  minutes 
prior  to  the  commencement  of  the  service,  the  doors  are  opened 
and  a  rush  commences ;  but  it  is  speedily  over,  for  the  chapel 
is  full — not  only  the  seats  but  every  inch  of  standing-room 
being  occupied,  and  the  gates  have  to  be  closed,  with  an 
immense  crowd  of  disappointed  expectant  hearers  outside. 
The  church  has,  indeed,  reason  to  be  deeply  grateful  that 
amid  the  vice  and  immorality  of  London,  a  voice  so  clear 
and  loud  has  been  lifted  up  for  the  cause  of  the  Redeemer." 

HENRY    WARD    BEECHER. 

Perhaps  no  American  minister  has  ever  become  so  well 
known  to  the  whole  body  of  the  people  as  Henry  Ward 
Beecher.  He  has  been  bitterly  criticised  and  opposed  even 
by  members  of  his  own  denomination,  but  has  triumphed 
over  every  attack,  and  won  a  proud  place  among  preachers. 
He  has  even  become  a  power  in  the  political  world,  and  his 
devotion  to  the  cause  of  liberty  has  endeared  him  to  thou- 
sands who  might  otherwise  have  never  heard  his  name. 

This  great  orator  was  born  in  1813  in  the  State  of  Connec- 
ticut. His  father,  Lyman  Beecher,  was  a  clergyman  of  great 
force  and  celebrity.  Young  Beecher  graduated  at  Amherst 
College  at  twenty-one,  and  studied  theology  with  his  father 


EMINENT   SPEAKERS.  185 

at  Lane  Seminary,  Cincinnati.  When  this  was  concluded, 
he  was  first  settled  over  a  small  Presbyterian  church  at  Law- 
renceburg,  Ind.,  where  he  remained  two  years,  and  then  re- 
moved to  Indianapolis,  and  preached  eight  years  with  great 
acceptance.  His  first  sermon  was  so  earnest  and  powerful 
that  it  led  to  the  conversion  of  twelve  persons.  A  course 
of  lectures,  which  he  gave  during  this  period  to  young  men, 
attracted  great  attention,  and  he  was  soon  after  called  to 
take  charge  of  Plymouth  Church  in  Brooklyn.  It  was  then 
a  feeble  organization ;  but  under  his  care  has  increased  to 
vast  proportions.  It  has  now  a  membership  of  1,700,  and 
the  largest  regular  congregation  by  far  of  any  church  in  the 
land.  The  income  of  the  church  from  the  rent  of  pews  is 
nearly  $41,000! 

As  a  lecturer,  Beecher  stands  among  the  very  first.  He 
speaks  every  year,  in  nearly  every  prominent  city  of  the 
Union,  and  thus  contributes  powerfully  to  the  success  of  the 
various  reforms  he  advocates.  He  early  gave  the  anti-slavery 
movement  the  support  of  his  powerful  eloquence,  and  preached 
and  lectured  against  the  great  evil  so  effectually  that  no  man 
was  more  denounced  and  hated  at  the  South  than  he. 

In  the  heat  of  our  civil  contest  he  passed  some  months  in 
England,  and  there  spoke  for  the  cause  of  liberty  and  Union. 
He  met  with  the  most  embittered  opposition ;  the  rabble, 
who  had  been  incited  by  handbills  to  come  out  and  put  him 
down,  often  roaring  until  his  voice  could  no  longer  be  heard. 
He  would  calmly  watch  them  until  the  noise  for  a  moment 
subsided,  and  then  speak  again  with  such  effect  that  the  vic- 
tory was  soon  declared  in  his  favor.  No  man  contributed 
more  powerfully  to  allay  the  prejudice  of  England  against 
our  nation  during  her  sore  contest. 

We  do  not  wonder  at  the  great  popularity  of  Beecher. 
He  possesses  much  greater  intellectual  acuteness  than  Spur- 
geon,  and  is  inferior  in  this  particular  to  no  one  of  the  orators 
of  the  present  day.  The 'variety  of  topics  he  discusses  is 
immense,  and  he  brings  such  good  sense  and  sound  logic  to 
bear  on  them,  that  the  people  feel  him  to  be  a  teacher  indeed. 


186  EXTEMPORE  SPEAKING. 

They  go  to  hear  him,  expecting  that  he  will  apply  high  spir- 
itual truth  to  every  day  life,  and  are  not  disappointed 

Beecher  is  a  giant  in  reasoning  power,  and  gives  no  light, 
superficial  views  of  anything.  His  feelings  are  very  acute, 
and  by  the  mere  force  of  sympathy  he  has  the  smiles  and 
tears  of  his  audience  at  command.  His  power  of  illustration 
is  wonderful ;  the  most  abstruse  subject  grows  plain  under 
the  light  of  his  luminous  comparisons.  While  his  command 
of  language  is  very  great,  and  he  never  hesitates  for  a  word, 
his  taste  is  so  pure  that  he  never  uses  an  unnecessary  or  ob- 
jectionable term.  In  fact,  he  speaks  for  the  press  as  much 
as  for  the  congregation  before  him.  For  years  his  sermons 
have  been  taken  down  by  short-hand  writers,  and  read  all 
over  the  world.  Sometimes  they  do  not  even  receive  a  final 
correction  from  him.  This  is  a  convincing  evidence  of  his 
marvelous  popularity.  His  sermons  are  first  preached  to  a 
vast  assembly,  and  then  spread  before  hundreds  of  thousands 
of  readers.  Not  only  newspapers  oi  his  own  denomination, 
but  of  others,  count  it  a  great  attraction  to  be  able  to  an- 
nounce a  weekly  or  semi-monthly  sermon  from  this  gifted 
man. 

On  several  occasions  we  were  privileged  to  hear  him, 
and  will  give  some  account  of  the  first  time  we  listened  to 
his  eloquence.  A  large  number  of  people  gathered  long  be- 
fore the  hour  for  service,  and  waited  impatiently  for  the 
opening  of  the  door.  Ten  minutes  before  the  hour  the  crowd 
was  admitted,  and  every  vacant  pew  almost  instantly  filled. 
Then  seats  were  folded  out  from  the  ends  of  the  pews  into 
the  aisles,  and  these  filled  until  the  whole  vast  space  was  one 
dense  mass  of  living  humanity ;  on  the  ground  floor  or  in  the 
second  or  third  galleries  there  was  no  unoccupied  space. 
Many  even  then  were  forced  to  turn  away  from  the  door. 
The  preaching  was  plain,  logical,  deep,  and  clear  rather  than 
brilliant.  There  was  no  florid  imagery,  but  the  light  of  im- 
agination gleamed  through  the  whole  discourse.  The  subject 
was  naturally  analyzed,  every  part  powerfully  illustrated,  and 
the  application  pungent  enough  to  reach  every  heart  not  en- 


EMINENT   SPEAKERS.  1ST 

tirely  impervious.  Several  times  a  smile  rippled  over  the 
faces  of  the  congregation,  but  lasted  only  for  a  moment,  and 
was  generally  the  prelude  for  some  deep  and  solemn  im- 
pression. 

Beecher  prepares  his  discourses  with  care,  but  neither 
memorizes  nor  reads  them.  On  one  occasion  we  noticed 
him  lay  his  manuscript  on  the  desk  before  him  and  begin  to 
read.  The  description  was  beautiful,  but  the  congregation 
seemed  indifferent,  and  gave  no  evidence  of  close  attention. 
Soon  he  pushed  the  paper  away.  Then  every  eye  was  bent 
upon  him  with  intensest  interest. 

Beecher's  ordinary  lectures  give  but  little  indication  of  his 
real  power.  They  are  written  and  read  in  the  same  form  to 
numerous  audiences.  But  his  genius  finds  free  play  only 
when  the  manuscript  is  abandoned.  Then,  when  he  speaks 
for  a  cause  in  which  his  heart  is  enlisted,  we  have  an  example 
of  what  mortal  eloquence  can  be.  We  once  heard  him  at  a 
large  meeting  which  he  had  visited  as  a  listener.  A  long 
and  rather  dull  speech  had  been  made  by  the  orator  of  the 
evening.  But  Beecher  was  seen,  recognized,  and  called  out. 
Every  murmur  was  stilled.  Laughter  and  tears  succeeded 
each  other  with  marvelous  rapidity ;  but  he  closed  by  a  dar- 
ing apostrophe,  spoken  in  a  low  tone,  that  thrilled  to  every 
heart,  and  held  all  spell-bound  for  some  moments  after  he 
had  ceased  to  speak !  It  seemed  the  full  realization  of  every 
dream  of  the  might  and  power  of  eloquence. 


ANNA   E.  DICKINSON. 

This  lady  was  born  in  1841,  and  while  quite  young  became 
celebrated  as  a  public  speaker.  She  has  riot  won  her  present 
position  by  a  single  brilliant  effort,  but  by  long  continued 
exertions  and  the  display  of  solid  talent.  She  is  a  member 
of  the  Society  of  Friends,  and  early  imbibed  the  hatred  of 
oppression  and  slavery  for  which  that  denomination  is  dis- 
tinguished. Her  principal  public  speeches  have  been  given 
in  the  service  of  freedom,  and  to  secure  a  higher  position  and 


188  EXTEMPORE  SPEAKING. 

a  wider  range  of  employments  for  women.  Her  own  exam- 
ple, as  well  as  her  teachings,  has  been  one  of  great  value  to 
her  sex. 

When  Miss  Dickinson  began  to  speak  she  had  no  powerful 
friends  to  aid,  and  for  a  time  her  audiences  were  quite  small. 
But  she  was  too  firm  and  devoted  to  the  cause  she  advo- 
cated to  grow  discouraged.  And  there  was  something  so 
attractive  in  her  manner,  that  opposition  was  soon  over- 
come, and  her  audiences  grew  continually.  She  was  so  truth- 
ful, earnest,  elegant,  and  strong,  that  before  she  was  twenty- 
two  years  of  age  she  was  recognized  as  a  power  in  the  politi- 
cal world,  and  few  voices  more  eloquent  than  hers  were  lifted 
up  on  behalf  of  liberty  and  justice  during  our  civil  war.  She 
has  also  taken  part  in  political  canvassing  with  great  success. 
Her  reputation  as  a  lyceum  lecturer  is  fully  established.  In 
all  the  cities  of  the  United  States  where  she  has  spoken  large 
and  enthusiastic  audiences  have  greeted  her. 

In  speaking,  she  is  modest,  graceful,  and  unconstrained, 
with  an  air  and  manner  of  perfect  naturalness.  There  is  no 
elaborate  ornament  in  her  words,  but  they  are  always  well 
chosen,  and  flow  with  the  utmost  ease.  Her  discourses  are 
logical,  and  usually  bear  upon  a  single  point  with  overwhelm- 
ing force.  Without  the  slightest  attempt  at  stage  effect,  she 
frequently  displays  deep  emotion,  and  becomes  totally  ab- 
sorbed in  her  subject.  Her  voice  is  full,  clear,  melodious, 
and  perfectly  distinct ;  it  is  persuasive,  well  modulated,  and 
equally  capable  of  expressing  pathos,  and  scorn,  and  com- 
mand. 

With  such  abilities  she  cannot  fail  to  be  popular,  and  her 
influence,  which  is  always  for  good,  is  steadily  widening. 
Yet  in  order  to  display  her  full  power,  she  requires  a  subject 
that  enlists  her  sympathies,  and  in  a  mere  literary  lecture, 
although  always  instructive,  she  does  not  produce  the  same 
vivid  impression  as  when  roused  by  some  injustice,  or  plead- 
ing the  cause  of  the  oppressed  and  feeble. 

The  manner  of  preparation  by  which  this  lady,  who  takes 
rank  with  the  best  of  American  orators,  has  acquired  such 


EMINENT   SPEAKERS.  189 

power  over  words  and  hearts,  merits  attention ;  in  response 
to  our  inquiry,  she  says  : 

"  For  the  first  three  years  of  my  public  life,  speaking,  with 
me,  was  absolutely  extempore ;  that  is,  I  gave  a  general 
look  over  the  field  before  I  rose  to  my  feet,  then  talked. 
Since  then,  I  consider  my  subject — let  it  lie  in  my  mind,  and 
gather  fresh  thoughts — statistics — what  not — almost  uncon- 
sciously— as  a  stone  gathers  moss. 

•'  When  I  wish  to  make  the  speech,  I  arrange  this  mass  in 
order  and  form — make  a  skeleton  of  it  on  paper,  and  leave 
the  filling  in  till  I  reach  the  platform — then  some  things  I 
have  thought  of  are  omitted,  and  others  thought  of  at  the 
time,  are  substituted.  The  speech  changes  here  and  there 
for  some  time,  and  then  gradually  crystalizes — that  is  all. 
I  mean,  of  course,  what  is  called  a  regular  lyceum  speech. 
The  political  speeches  are  made  very  much  on  my  old  plan." 

JOHN    A.    BINGHAM. 

We  selected  one  American  political  orator  of  the  genera- 
tion that  has  just  gone  by  as  a  specimen  of  the  capabilities  of 
extempore  speech,  and  will  now  give  an  instance  of  the  pres- 
ent. The  speaker  we  have  chosen  is  widely  known.  Many 
have  listened  to  his  eloquent  words,  and  in  the  stormy  events 
of  the  last  few  years,  his  name  has  become  a  household  word. 
We  make  this  choice  the  more  readily  because  the  charac- 
ter of  eloquence  for  which  Bingham  is  noted,  is  that  which 
many  persons  suppose  to  be  most  incompatible  with  a  spon- 
taneous selection  of  words — beauteous,  elegant,  melodious, 
and  highly  adorned. 

Bingham  graduated,  was  admitted  to  the  bar,  and  speedily 
became  a  successful  lawyer.  He  also  turned  his  attention  to 
political  affairs,  and  became  known  as  a  most  efficient  public 
canvasser  for  the  doctrines  of  the  party  with  which  he  acted. 
This  is  one  of  the  best  schools  in  the  world  for  ready  and 
vigorous  speech,  but  has  a  tendency  to  produce  carelessness 
of  expression,  and  to  substitute  smartness  for  logic  and  prin- 
ciple. This  tendency  he  successfully  resisted,  and  became 
distinguished  for  the  deep  moral  tone,  as  well  as  for  the 
beauty  of  the  language  of  his  addresses.  He  was  elected  to 


190  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 

Congress  from  an  Ohio  district,  and  become  known  as  one 
of  the  most  eloquent  members  of  that  body.  He  took  a 
prominent  part  in  the  opposition  to  the  Kansas  and  Nebraska 
bill,  and  met  the  entire  approval  of  the  people.  When  the 
Southern  States  commenced  to  secede  in  the  winter  of  1860- 
Gl  he  brought  forward  a  force  bill  to  compel  them  to  submit 
to  national  authority.  This  was  defeated  by  those  who 
thought  that  other  means  would  avail.  Time  proved  the 
wisdom  of  his  views. 

All  through  the  contest  that  followed,  his  voice  was  heard 
on  the  side  of  liberty  and  Union.  He  soon  became  known  as 
one  of  the  leaders  of  the  Republican  party,  and  has  nobly 
held  that  position  to  the  date  of  writing. 

Mr.  Bingham,  in  speaking,  is  calm,  clear  and  pointed. 
His  manner  indicates  confidence,  and  his  words  flow  freely. 
Imagination  is  allowed  full  play,  and  the  spirit  of  poetry 
breathes  everywhere.  He  abounds  in  lofty  and  beautiful 
imagery,  that  places  the  truth  in  the  clearest  light.  While 
the  subject  is  never  lost  sight  of,  a  thousand  graces  and  beau- 
ties cluster  around  it  from  every  hand.  From  the  elevation 
and  certainty  of  his  language,  many  casual  hearers  have  been 
led  to  imagine  that  his  speeches  were  written  and  committed. 
But  the  reverse  is  the  case.  Some  of  his  highest  efforts  have 
been  made  with  no  time  even  for  the  prearran^ement  of 
thought.  This  is  one  secret  of  his  great  success  as  a  de- 
bater. He  is  always  ready,  with  or  without  warning,  to 
speak  the  thoughts  that  are  in  his  mind.  But  he  prefers,  of 
course,  to  have  time  to  arrange  his  matter  in  advance. 

The  following  passage  will  illustrate  the  force  of  Mr.  Bing- 
ham's  thought  and  expression.  It  is  from  a  speech  in  reply 
to  Wadsworth,  and  was  entirely  unstudied : 

"As  the  gentleman  then  and  now  has  chosen  to  assail  me 
for  this,  I  may  be  pardoned  for  calling  his  attention  to  the 
inquiry,  what  further  did  I  say  in  that  connection,  on  that 
day,  and  in  the  hearing  of  the  gentleman  ?  I  said  that  every 
loyal  citizen  in  this  land  held  his  life,  his  property,  his  home, 
and  the  children  of  his  house,  a  sacred  trust  for  the  common 
defence.  Did  that  remark  excite  any  horror  in  the  gentle- 


EMINENT  SPEAKERS.  191 

man's  mind.  Not  at  all.  I  undertook,  in  my  humble  way, 
to  demonstrate  that,  by  the  very  letter  and  spirit  of  the  Con- 
stitution, you  had  a  right  to  lay  the  lives  and  the  property 
and  the  homes,  the  very  hearth-stones  of  the  honest  and  the 
just  and  the  good,  under  contribution  by  law,  that  the  Re- 
public might  live.  Did  that  remark  excite  any  abhorrence 
in  the  gentleman,  or  any  threat  that  fifteen  slave  States  would 
be  combined  against  us?  Not  at  all.  I  stated  in  my  place 
just  as  plainly,  that  by  your  law  you  might  for  the  common 
defence  not  only  take  the  father  of  the  house,  but  the  eldest 
born  of  his  house,  to  the  tented  field  by  force  of  your  con- 
scription, if  need  be,  and  subject  him  to  the  necessary  despo- 
tism of  military  rule,  to  the  pestilence  of  the  camp,  and  the 
destruction  of  the  battle-field.  And  yet  the  gentleman  was 
not  startled  with  the  horrid  vision  of  a  violated  Constitution, 
and  there  burst  from  his  indignant  lips  no  threat  that  if  we 
did  this  there  would  be  a  union  of  fifteen  slave  States  against 
the  Federal  despotism.  I  asserted  in  my  place,  further,  that 
after  you  had  taken  the  father  and  his  eldest  born  away,  and 
given  them  both  to  death  a  sacrifice  for  their  country,  you 
could,  by  the  very  terms  of  the  Constitution,  take  away  the 
shelter  of  the  roof-tree  which  his  own  hands  had  reared  for 
the  protection  of  the  wife  and  the  children  that  were  left  be- 
hind, and  quarter  your  soldiers  beneath  it,  that  the  Republic 
might  live.  And  yet  the  gentleman  saw  no  infraction  of  the 
Constitution,  and  made  no  threat  of  becoming  the  armed  ally 
of  the  rebellion.  But  the  moment  that  I  declared  my  con- 
viction that  the  public  exigencies  and  the  public  necessities 
required,  that  the  Constitution  and  the  oaths  of  the  people's 
Representatives  required,  that  by  your  law — the  imperial 
mandate  of  the  people — the  proclamation  of  liberty  should 
go  forth  over  all  that  rebel  region,  declaring  that  every  slave 
in  the  service  of  these  infernal  conspirators  against  your  chil- 
dren and  mine,  against  your  homes  arid  mine,  against  your 
Constitution  and  mine,  against  the  sacred  graves  of  your 
kindred  and  mine,  shall  be  free,  the  gentleman  rises  startled 
Avith  the  horrid  vision  of  broken  fetters  and  liberated  bond- 
men, treason  overthrown,  and  a  country  redeemed,  regener- 
ated, and  forever  reunited,  and  cries,  No;  this  shall  not  be; 
fifteen  States  will  combine  against  you.  Slavery  is  the  civi- 
lizer;  you  shall  neither  denounce  it  as  an  'infernal  atrocity,' 
nor  overthrow  it  to  save  the  Union.  I  repeat  the  word 
which  so  moved  the  gentleman  from  his  propriety,  that  chat- 
tel slavery  is  an  '  infernal  atrocity.'  I  thank  God  that  I 
learned  to  lisp,  it  at  my  mother's  knee.  It  is  a  logical  se- 


192  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 

quence,  sir,  disguise  it  as  you  may,  from  that  golden  rule 
which  was  among  the  first  utterances  of  all  of  us, '  whatsoever 
ye  would  that  men  should  do  unto  you,  do  ye  so  even  unto 
them.' " 

The  second  instance  is  taken  from  a  speech  on  the  proposal 
to  furnish  relief  to  the  Southerners  who  were  in  a  destitute 
and  starving  condition  after  the  close  of  the  war. 

"  No  war  rocks  the  continent,  no  armed  rebellion  threatens 
with  overthrow  the  institutions  of  the  country.  The  pillars 
of  the  holy  temple  of  our  liberties  do  not  tremble  in  the  storm 
of  battle;  the  whole  heavens  are  no  longer  covered  with 
blackness,  and  the  habitations  of  the  people  are  no  longer 
filled  with  lamentation  and  sorrow  for  their  beautiful  slain 
upon  the  high  places  of  the  land  !  Thanks  be  to  God !  the 
harvest  of  death  is  ended  and  the  sickle  has  dropped  from  the 
hands  of  the  'pale  reapers'  on  the  field  of  mortal  combat. 

"Sir,  you  may  apply  in  the  day  of  war  the  iron  rule  of 
war,  and  say  that  the  innocent  and  unoffending  in  the  l>e- 
leagured  city  shall  perish  with  the  guilty;  but  when  war's 
dread  alarm  has  ended,  as  happily  it  has  with  us,  when  the 
broken  battalions  of  rebellion  have  surrendered  to  the  victo- 
rious legions  of  the  Republic,  let  no  man  stand  within  the 
forum  of  the  people  and  utter  the  horrid  blasphemy  that  y<m 
shall  not  have  regard  for  the  famishing  poor,  that  you  shall 
not  give  a  cup  of  water  to  him  that  is  ready  to  perish  in  the 
name  of  our  Master,  that  you  shall  not  even  relieve  the  wants 
of  those  who  have  never  offended  against  the  laws.  The  un- 
offending little  children  are  not  enemies  of  your  country  or 
of  mine ;  the  crime  of  treason  is  not  upon  their  souls.  Surely, 
surely  they  are  not  to  be  denied  your  care.  The  great  French 
patriot,  banished  from  the  empire  for  his  love  of  liberty,  gath- 
ered little  children  around  him  in  his  exile  at  Guernsey,  and 
fed  them  from  his  own  table,  uttering  the  judgment  of  our 
common  humanity  in  its  best  estate ;  '  Little  children  at  least 
are  innocent,  for  God  wills  it  so.' " 

WILLIAM    E.    GLADSTONE. 

This  great  statesman  and  orator  is  an  extempore  speaker, 
and  one  of  the  best  in  the  world.  He  has  not,  perhaps,  the 
fiery  force  of  John  Bright,  who,  like  himself,  speaks  without 
previous  preparation  of  words,  but  far  surpasses  him  in  va- 


EMINENT   SPEAKERS.  193 

riety  and  elegance.  His  speech,  like  a  prism,  reflects  a  thou- 
sand shades  of  color,  and  the  dullest  subject  under  his  treat- 
ment blooms  into  life  and  light.  His  style  is  more  like  that 
of  Cicero  than  of  Demosthenes,  being  diffuse,  sparkling, 
graceful — flowing  like  a  river,  that  is  always  full  to  the  brim. 
He  is  prepared  at  any  hour  of  day  or  night  to  take  part  in 
any  discussion  of  interest  to  him.  Even  when  he  is  explain- 
ing details  of  finance,  usually  the  dryest  of  subjects,  he  is  lis- 
tened to  with  delighted  interest.  By  the  mere  force  of  his 
talents  he  has  raised  himself  to  a  commanding  position  in 
England,  and  as  a  writer  has  also  attracted  much  attention. 

Gladstone  is  of  a  light  and  nervous  build,  has  a  very  sweet 
and  attractive  countenance,  and  a  rich  and  fascinating  voice. 
As  a  debater  he  is  almost  faultless,  unless  his  want  of  harsh- 
ness and  maliciousness  be  called  a  fault.  Sometimes,  too,  he 
shows  a  disposition  to  yield  rather  than  contend,  but  never 
when  principle  is  at  stake.  To  him,  perhaps  more  than  any 
other,  belongs  the  credit  of  the  great  reform  bill  which  has 
almost  changed  the  government  of  Great  Britain. 

The  following  extract  from  a  communication  on  the  subject 
of  extempore  speaking  will  be  read  with  deep  interest : 

"  HAWANDEN,  NORTH  WALES,  Oct.  12,  1867. 

.  .  .  "  I  venture  to  remark,  first,  that  your  countrymen, 
so  far  as  a  very  limited  intercourse  and  experience  can  enable 
me  to  judge,  stand  very  little  in  need  of  instruction  or  advice 
as  to  public  speaking  from  this  side  of  the  water.  And  fur- 
ther, again  speaking  of  my  own  experience,  I  think  that  the 
public  men  of  England  are,  beyond  all  others,  engrossed  by 
the  multitude  of  cares  and  subjects  of  thought  belonging  to 
the  government  of  a  highly  diversified  empire,  and  therefore 
are  probably  less  than  others  qualified  either  to  impart  to 
others  the  best  methods  of  preparing  public  discourses,  or  to 
consider  and  adopt  them  for  themselves. 

"  Suppose,  however,  I  were  to  make  the  attempt,  I  should 
certainly  found  myself  on  a  double  basis,  compounded  as 
follows :  First,  of  a  wide  and  thorough  general  education, 
which,  I  think,  gives  a  suppleness  and  readiness,  as  well  as 
a  firmness  of  tissue  to  the  mind,  not  easily  obtained  without 
this  form  of  discipline.  Secondly,  of  the  habit  of  constant 
and  searching  reflection  on  the  subject  of  any  proposed  dis- 
9 


EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 

course.  Such  reflection  will  naturally  clothe  itself  in  \vords, 
and  of  the  phrases  it  supplies,  many  will  spontaneously  rise 
to  the  lips.  I  will  not  say  that  no  other  forms  of  preparation 
can  be  useful,  but  I  know  little  of  them,  and  it  is  on  these, 
beyond  all  doubt,  that  I  would  advise  the  young  principally 
to  rely. 

"I  remain,  &c.,  W.  E.  GLADSTONE. 

"W.   PlTTENGER." 

MATTHEW  SIMPSON. 

This  distinguished  divine  was  born  in  Cadiz,  O.,  in  1811, 
began  to  preach  in  1833,  and  was  elected  Bishop  of  the  M. 
E.  Church  in  J  852.  At  the  very  beginning  of  his  ministerial 
career,  his  sermons  made  a  deep  impression,  and  his  early 
promise  has  been  abundantly  realized. 

As  a  lecturer  he  has  also  acquired  a  deservedly  high  rank. 
During  the  war  of  the  rebellion  he  delivered  a  discourse  on 
the  "Future  of  Our  Country,"  in  the  principal  cities  of  the 
United  States,  which  gave  him  a  more  than  denominational 
fame.  This  lecture  has  probably  never  been  surpassed  as  a 
summing  up  of  the  resources  of  the  nation,  and  an  applica- 
tion of  the  data  to  the  prediction  of  the  probable  destiny  and 
form  of  our  government.  As  far  as  words  were  concerned,  it 
was  an  extempore  address,  and  had  the  peculiarity  that  might 
be  expected  from  this  fact,  of  being  much  better  delivered, 
and  therefore,  of  making  a  much  more  profound  impression 
at  some  points  than  others. 

Simpson  travels  continually,  preaching  at  conferences,  ded- 
icating churches,  and  delivering  lectures,  thus  being  brought 
into  close  contact  with  the  people  in  all  parts  of  the  country. 
He  has  little  resemblance  to  the  popular  ideal  of  an  orator. 
His  action  is  ungraceful,  and  his  voice  low  and  almost  mo- 
notonous. He  is  also  hard  worked,  and  not  having  the  powers 
of  endurance  possessed  by  some  of  our  incessant  preachers,  he 
usually  appears  tired  and  exhausted.  Yet  he  has  three  qualities 
that  go  far  to  make  up  for  these  defects.  He  is  intensely  ear- 
nest and  real.  Before  listening  to  him  five  minutes  his  hearers 
are  convinced  that  he  is  speaking  the  very  thoughts  of  his 


EMINENT   SPEAKERS.  195 

soul  without  evasion  or  pretense.  He  also  has  great  imagina- 
tion, and,  as  a  consequence,  the  statement  of  facts,  in  which 
he  abounds,  is  never  dry  or  tedious.  And  lastly,  he  has  great 
command  of  condensed  and  expressive  language.  What  he 
wishes  to  say  is  said  in  a  few  words,  and  every  sermon  is 
filled  with  the  materials  of  thought  rather  than  with  mere 
verbiage.  These  qualities  atone  for  every  deficiency  of  exter- 
nal grace,  and  place  him  among  the  most  popular  ministers 
of  the  Methodist  Church. 

Simpson  preaches  entirely  extempore,  having  no  time  to 
write,  even  if  he  had  the  disposition.  His  memory  is  tena- 
cious, and  his  power  of  observation  keen,  so  that  he  is  never 
at  a  loss  for  facts  or  illustrations.  He  has  a  tender  heart  also, 
and  often  appeals  to  his  own  vivid  experiences,  thus  drawing 
the  sympathies  of  the  people  with  him. 

WENDELL    PHILLIPS. 

There  can  scarcely  be  a  doubt  that  Wendell  Phillips  is  the 
greatest  professional  lecturer  of  the  present  day.  He  is 
always  radical,  and  on  the  extremest  verge  of  every  question, 
although  in  many  things  the  people  have  followed  hard  on 
his  footsteps.  As  a  speaker,  he  has  great  power,  combined 
with  unsurpassed  elegance.  His  manner  is  calm,  his  voice 
of  silvery  sweetness,  yet  every  rounded  sentence  is  full  of 
living  flame,  and  no  man  is  so  unsparing  in  his  denuncia- 
tions. In  a  style  as  lucid,  exact,  and  pure  as  that  of  a  scholar 
who  has  been  all  his  life  secluded  from  the  world,  and  busied 
with  literature  alone,  he  utters  words  and  sentences  befitting 
the  stormiest  revolution. 

The  lectures  of  Phillips,  which  are  repeated  again  and 
again,  are,  of  course,  well  studied  and  the  language  followed 
pretty  closely,  though  not  invariably.  But  like  Mirabeau, 
it  is  in  his  unstudied  speeches  that  he  rises  highest.  The 
first  address  that  gave  him  public  fame  was  of  this  char- 
acter. A  meeting  had  been  called  in  Boston  to  pass  resolu- 
tions of  indignation  on  the  occasion  of  the  murder  of  Love- 
joy,  who  was  killed  in  Illinois  for  his  devotion  to  freedom. 


196  EXTEMPORE   SPEAKING. 

The  whole  business  of  the  meeting  was  arrested,  and  the 
resolutions  were  on  the  point  of  being  defeated  by  the  pow- 
erful opposition  of  a  leading  politician,  who  feared  even  to 
say  that  murder  was  wrong.  Phillips  was  present  as  a  lis- 
tener, but  could  keep  his  seat  no  longer,  and,  arising,  gave 
vent  to  his  feelings  in  a  speech  so  full  of  thrilling  and  indig- 
nant eloquence,  that  the  purpose  of  the  meeting  was  at  once 
secured,  and  he  himself  brought  before  the  public  as  one  of 
the  first  orators  of  the  age. 

In  regard  to  the  manner  of  his  preparation  Phillips  himself 
refers  to  the  celebrated  letter  of  Lord  Brougham  to  the  father 
of  Macaulay,  on  the  training  of  his  son  in  eloquence.  The 
substance  of  Brougham's  advice  is,  to  first  acquire  the  power 
of  speaking  freely  and  easily  before  an  audience,  no  matter 
at  what  sacrifice  of  accuracy  and  elegance.  This,  lie  says 
truly,  can  only  be  done  by  much  practice.  When  this  is 
accomplished,  he  recommends  studying  and  committing  to 
memory  the  orations  of  Demosthenes  until  their  spirit  is  fully 
imbibed. 

JOHN   P.    DUBBIN. 

This  traveler,  scholar,  and  preacher,  adds  another  one  to 
the  long  and  illustrious  list  of  those  who  have  triumphed  over 
every  hindrance  and  risen  to  eminence.  He  was  born  in 
1800.  A  district  school  afforded  him  all  the  education  he 
obtained  before  entering  the  Methodist  itineracy,  but  while 
enduring  the  hardships  of  a  pioneer  minister  he  studied 
diligently,  perusing  his  Bible  and  commentaries  around  the 
log  fires  of  his  parishioners  whenever  even  this  poor  oppor- 
tunity occurred.  When  he  was  appointed  to  Cincinnati  a 
more  promising  field  opened.  He  went  to  college  during 
the  week,  and  still  filled  his  pulpit  on  the  Sabbath.  He  soon 
after  became,  a  professor  in  a  college,  and  afterward  chaplain 
to  Congress,  where  he  was  highly  distinguished.  Then  he 
served  a  time  as  editor  of  the  New  York  Advocate,  and  became 
President  of  Dickenson  College.  Next  he  traveled  through 
the  old  world,  as  far  as  Egypt  and  Syria,  and,  returning, 


EMINENT   SPEAKERS.  197 

wrote  a  very  interesting  account  of  his  journey.  He  was, 
lastly,  elected  Corresponding  Secretary  of  the  M.  E.  Mission- 
ary Society — a  position  which  he  has  held  for  years,  and 
which  brings  him  into  contact  with  large  masses  of  people 
in  every  part  of  the  country. 

The  merits  of  Durbin  as  an  orator  are  many  and  high.  He 
possesses  deep  feeling,  and  the  tears  of  the  people  to  whom 
he  preaches  are  at  his  command.  There  is  a  greatness  about 
his  character  that  is  always  felt,  and  with  it  a  childlike  sim- 
plicity that  endears  him  to  every  heart.  There  is  an  utter 
absence  of  the  pretension  we  sometimes  find  about  those 
whe  are  conscious  of  the  possession  of  great  powers.  His 
arrangement  of  every  sermon  is  plain,  simple,  and  easily  re- 
membered. His  command  of  words  is  complete,  and  he 
always  finds  just  the  one  he  wants  without  hesitation.  The 
tones  of  his  voice  are  aifectionate  and  pleasing,  though. when 
not  called  into  animation  by  some  subject  worthy  of  his 
powers,  a  little  monotonous,  yet  so  strong  that  when  he 
seems  to  be  only  talking  at  the  pitch  of  common  conversation, 
every  word  can  be  heard  to  the  extremity  of  the  largest 
church.  But  his  voice  can  be  raised  to  a  thunder  peal  that 
is  the  more  impressive  because  it  is  seldom  employed.  The 
perfect  ease  with  which  he  preaches,  is  far  different  from  the 
manner  of  those  who  have  memorized  every  word  and  are 
full  of  anxiety  for  its  effect.  Often  while  he  talks  away 
with  apparent  indifference,  every  eye  is  fixed  on  his,  or 
moistened  with  tears.  When  we  heard  him,  some  of  his 
images  were  overwhelmingly  sublime,  and  we  held  our  breath 
in  awe ;  at  other  times  his  explanations  seemed  to  throw  new 
and  radiant  light  on  what  was  before  dark  and  obscure. 

The  mode  by  which  Durbin  attained  his  great  success  is 
worthy  of  careful  attention.  In  a  communication  to  the 
compiler  of  these  notices,  he  says  : 

.  .  .  "  I  never  wrote  my  sermons — not  more  than  two 
or  three  in  my  life — and  these  not  till  after  I  had  preached 
them.  My  plan  has  been  to  have  a  well-defined  topic,  and 
only  such  subdivisions  as  naturally  arise  out  of  the  topic.  I 


198  EXTEMPORE  SPEAKING. 

generally  put  them  down  separately  on  a  small  piece  of  paper, 
which  I  take  into  the  pulpit,  but  scarcely  ever  use.  This  is 
commonly  called  a  skeleton.  I  do  not  write  out  anything  I 
propose  to  say,  but  carefully  think  over  the  main  points ; 
but  never  commit  them  to  memory.  I  keep  within  living 
touch  of  my  skeleton,  but  depend  on  the  natural  consecutive- 
ness  of  thought  to  enable  me  to  clothe  it  with  muscle  ;  and 
I  depend  on  the  inspiration  of  the  occasion  to  give  it  life  and 
color.  The  inspiration  is  partly  human  and  partly  divine; 
arising  from  the  combined  action  of  the  divine  and  the  hu- 
man spirit,  which  combined  action  constitutes  the  power  of 
a  preached  gospel. 

"  So  far  as  human  ability  is  concerned,  I  believe  that  this  is 
the  secret  of  any  success  I  have  had  in  preaching  the  Gospel." 

NEWMAN    HALL. 

The  Evangelist  gives  Rev.  Newman  Hall's  account  of  how 
he  learned  extempore  preaching,  as  follows : 

"  When  I  went  to  college,  it  seemed  to  me  that  I  should 
never  be  able  to  say  a  word  in  public  without  writing.  But 
I  soon  determined  that  if  I  was  going  to  be  a  preacher,  and 
particularly  if  I  wanted  to  be  anything  like  a  successful 
preacher,  L  must  form  the  habit  of  cxtc'inporaneous  addi 
So  I  went  into  my  room,  locked  the  door,  placed  the  Bible 
before  me  on  a  mantel,  opened  it  at  random,  and  then  on 
whatever  passage  my  eye  chanced  to  rest,  proceeded  to  de- 
liver a  discourse  of  ten  minutes.  This  practice  was  kept  up 
an  entire  twelve  months.  Every  day,  for  a  whole  year,  ten 
minutes  were  given  to  that  kind  of  speaking,  in  my  own 
room  by  myself!  At  first  I  found  it  very  difficult  to  speak 
go  long  right  to  the  point.  But  then  if  I  couldn't  talk  on 
the  subject  I  would  talk  about  it — making  good  remarks  and 
moral  reflections — being  careful  to  keep  up  the  flow,  and  say 
something  to  the  end  of  the  term  allotted  for  the  exercise. 
At  the  end  of  the  twelve  months,  however,  I  found  I  could 
not  only  speak  with  a  good  degree  of  fluency,  but  that  I  could 
hold  myself  strictly  to  the  subject  in  hand.  You  take  this 
course.  Don't  do  your  practising  on  an  audience.  That  iss 
outrageous." 


APPENDIX. 


i. 
THE  CHAIRMAN'S  GUIDE. 

ORDER   OF  PROCEEDINGS  IN  VARIOUS  MEETINGS. 

WHEX  the  business  of  an  assembly  is  limited  to  hearing 
one  man  speak,  there  is  little  need  of  rules.  But  when  there 
are  several  speeches,  and  various  kinds  of  business  are  min- 
gled with  them,  the  subject  of  order  becomes  important. 
Many  a  fluent  speaker  may  be  embarrassed  because  he  does 
not  know  just  when  he  ought  to  speak,  and  how  to  introduce 
what  he  desires.  A  member  of  Congress,  for  instance,  can- 
not be  efficient,  no  matter  what  his  talents,  until  he  masters 
the  rules  of  business.  Even  in  smaller  and  less  formal 
assemblies  it  is  of  great  advantage  to  every  one,  especially  if 
called  upon  to  preside,  as  all  may  be  in  this  land  of  discus- 
sions, to  know  just  how  to  fulfil  the  duties  imposed  on 
him.  In  this  short,  and  necessarily  imperfect  sketch,  we  will 
only  aim  to  give  those  simple  forms  of  parliamentary  law 
that  will  often  be  needed  by  every  man  who  essays  to  speak 
at  all. 

Every  society  has  the  right  to  form  its  own  laws,  and 
whenever  it  does  positively  determine  any  matter,  the  gen- 
eral rules  of  order  are  superseded  to  that  extent.  But  it 
would  be  an  endless  task  for  any  body  to  provide  before- 
hand for  every  case  that  might  occur,  and  the  greater  part 
of  these  are  always  left  to  be  decided  by  general  usage. 
This  usage,  which  has  been  growing  up  for  years,  now  covers 

(199) 


200  APPEXDIX. 

almost  every  possible  point.  An  eminent  authority  says: 
"It  is  much  more  material  that  there  should  be  a  rule  to  go 
by  than  what  that  rule  is,  for  then  the  standard  cannot  be 
changed  to  suit  the  caprice  or  interest  of  the  chairman,  or 
more  active  members,  and  all  are  assured  of  justice." 

The  same  rules  apply  to  all  assemblies,  with  a  few  modi 
fications,  which  are  readily  suggested  by  the  nature  of  the 
assembly.  We  will  give  a  few  of  the  special  applications 
first,  and  afterward  the  general  rules. 

RELIGIOUS    ASSEMBLIES. 

The  regular  public  service  of  churches  which  have  a  ritual 
is  governed  by  it,  and  in  those  which  hare  none,  usage 
always  fixes  a  course  from  which  the  preacher  should  not  vary 
without  good  reasons.  The  most  common  mode  of  procedure 
in  churches  that  are  governed  by  unwritten  custom  is,  first, 
a  short  invocation  of  God's  blessing  on  the  service.  This  is 
omitted  in  the  Methodist  church  and  some  others.  Then 
follows  the  reading  and  singing  of  a  hymn  ;  prayer,  the  read- 
ing of  a  Scripture  lesson  (which  is  frequently  omitted  in  even- 
ing service),  singing  again  and  preaching.  There  are  several 
modes  of  closing.  Sometimes  the  order  is :  prayer ;  singing  a 
hymn,  with  doxology  attached ;  and  benediction.  Sometimes 
singing  comes  first,  then  prayer,  and  the  benediction  pro- 
nounced while  the  congregation  is  in  the  attitude  of  prayer. 
Sometimes  there  are  four  distinct  acts  ;  singing  a  hymn ; 
prayer ;  singing  the  doxology ;  and  benediction.  The  order 
in  which  these  modes  of  closing  are  stated  is,  in  our  opinion, 
also  the  order  of  preference. 

Business  and  congregational  meetings  are  governed  by  the 
common  rules  of  order. 

ANNIVERSARIES,    CELEBRATIONS,  ETC. 

In  meetings  of  this  character,  the  object  usually  is  to  enjoy 
a  pleasant  time,  hear  speeches,  and  pass  resolutions  that  have 
been  prepared  beforehand,  and  on  which  no  discussion  is 
expected.  In  Sunday-school  celebrations,  and  other  meetings 


APPENDIX.  201 

of  the  same  nature,  let  a  programme  be  formed,  with  each 
performance  in  its  order,  and  either  printed  and  distributed 
or  read  as  soon  as  the  meeting  is  called  to  order.  This  must 
be  done  at  the  proper  time  by  the  superintendent,  or  some 
one  appointed  for  the  purpose,  who  will  act  as  chairman, 
and  introduce  each  speaker  in  his  turn.  Any  resolutions 
offered  should  be  in  writing,  and  also  read  by  him,  and  put 
to  vote  in  the  regular  form.  When  the  exercises  are  closed 
the  meeting  will  be  dismissed  without  waiting  for  a  motion 
to  adjourn. 

In  anniversary  meetings  of  a  more  formal  character,  it  is 
common  to  have  each  speaker  supplied,  in  advance,  with  a 
resolution  on  which  he  is  to  speak.  At  the  proper  time  he 
will  arise,  offer  the  resolution,  and  make  his  address.  If  it 
is  desirable  to  have  more  than  one  speech  on  that  resolution, 
the  next  can  second  the  motion  and  speak  in  the  same  way. 
Then  the  resolution  may  be  put  in  the  common  form.  This 
can  be  continued  until  all  the  resolutions  and  speakers  are 
disposed  of. 

LITERARY   AND   EDUCATIONAL    SOCIETIES. 

In  the  societies  usually  attached  to  colleges,  everything 
should  be  done  with  the  most  scrupulous  regularity,  and  thus 
the  rules  of  public  business  fully  learned.  It  is  well  also  for 
them  to  have  a  certain  order  by  which  all  their  exercises 
shall  be  governed,  and  everything  made  to  move  on  with  the 
regularity  of  clockwork.  A  committee  can  easily  construct 
such  a  plan,  and  it  can  be  amended  as  desired.  It  should 
always  have  a  department  for  miscellaneous  business. 

Literary  societies  and  debating  clubs  are  very  commonly 
formed  in  villages  and  school  districts,  and  when  properly 
carried  on  can  scarcely  fail  to  be  profitable.  Many  a  person 
has  received  his  first  lesson  in  eloquence  in  such  a  school, 
and  the  fluency  and  confidence  a  boy  or  young  man  cau  ac- 
quire in  them  may  be  of  life  long  advantage.  Their  organ- 
ization may  be  very  simple.  A  meeting  has  been  called  by 
some  one  who  is  interested  in  the  matter,  and  when  the  peo- 


202  APPENDIX. 

pie  are  met  he  calls  them  to  order,  nominates  a  chairman, 
puts  the  question,  and  at  the  request  of  the  chair  explains 
the  object  of  the  meeting.  Some  one  then  moves  to  appoint 
a  committee  to  draft  a  Constitution  and  By-laws.  It  is  best 
for  the  committee  to  have  these  previously  prepared,  that  no 
time  may  be  lost.  The  following  form,  taken  from  "  How  to 
Talk,"  with  a  few  modifications,  will  be  all  that  is  needed  in 
most  cases  : 

CONSTITUTION. 

ARTICLE  I. — Name. 
This  Society  shall  be  known  as  the  of 

ARTICLE  II. — Objects. 

The  object  of  this  Society  shall  be  the  improvement  of  its  Members  in 
debating,  and  the  promotion  of  their  intellectual,  social,  and  moral  ad- 
vancement. 

ARTICLE  III. — Membership. 

Any  person  of  good  moral  character  may  become  a  member  of  this 
Society,  by  signing  the  Constitution  and  paying  the  initiation  fee.  [In 
some  cases  it  may  be  necessary  to  receive  Members  by  a  vote  of  the 
Society,  after  being  regularly  proposed.] 

ARTICLE  IV. — Officers  and  their  Duties. 

The  Officers  of  this  Society  shall  consist  of  a  President,  a  Vice-Presi- 
dent,  a  Secretary,  and  a  Treasurer ;  each  of  whom  shall  be  elected  by 
ballot,  and  their  duties  shall  be  the  same  as  are  generally  required  of 
such  officers  in  similar  societies. 

ARTICLE  V. — Amendments. 

No  addition,  alteration,  or  amendment  shall  be  made  to  this  Constitu- 
tion without  a  vote  of  two-thirds  of  the  Members  present,  and  no  motion 
to  amend  shall  be  acted  upon  at  the  same  meeting  at  which  it  is  pro- 
posed. 

BY-LAWS. 

ARTICLE  I. — Meetings. 

SEC.  1. — This  Society  shall  meet  on  the  of  each 

for  the  promotion  of  its  objects  and  the  transaction  of  business. 

SKC.  2. — There  shall  be  an  annual  meeting  on  the  of 

for  the  election  of  Officers,  and  to  hear  the  reports  of  the  Secretary  and 
Treasurer. 

SEC.  3. — Special  meetings  may  be  called  by  the  President  e,t  the  re- 
quest of  Members. 


APPENDIX.  203 

ARTICLE  IL — Initiation  Fee. 

All  persons  received  into  this  Society  shall  pay  the  sum  of 
on  signing  the  Constitution. 

ARTICLE  III. — Dues. 

All  Members  shall  pay  the  sum  of  per  month,  to  be  appro- 

priated, with  the  initiation  fees,  to  defraying  the  expenses  of  the  Soci- 
ety ;  and  no  Member  who  may  be  in  arrears  for  dues  more  than  two 
months  shall  be  allowed  to  speak  or  vote  on  any  question  till  such  ar- 
rearages shall  be  paid. 

ARTICLE  IV. — Expulsions. 

Any  Member  who  shall  refuse  to  conform  to  the  Constitution  and 
By-laws,  or  shall  be  guilty  of  repeated  disorderly  conduct,  shall  be  sub- 
jected to  expulsion  by  a  vote  of  two-thirds  of  the  Members  present ;  but 
no  motion  to  expel  a  Member  shall  be  acted  upon  at  the  same  meeting 
at  which  it  is  offered. 

ARTICLE  V. — Amendments. 

The  same  rule  in  reference  to  amendments  shall  apply  to  the  By-laws 
as  to  the  Constitution. 

The  Constitution  when  presented  may  be  discussed,  and 
put  to  vote,  altogether,  or  article  by  article ;  if  adopted,  it 
becomes  the  law  of  the  meeting.  A  list  of  members  will 
then  be  made  out,  including  all  who  desire  to  be  enrolled, 
and  are  willing  to  pay  the  initiation  fee.  Then  a  new  elec- 
tion of  officers  should  be  held,  with  those  only  who  are  mem- 
bers voting.  The  old  chairman  will  retain  his  seat  until  the 
new  one  is  elected.  When  it  is  intended  to  have  performances 
of  different  kinds,  as  essays,  orations,  debates,  etc.,  it  is  well 
to  appoint  a  committee  to  draw  up  a  regular  order  in  which 
these  will  be  called  for.  The  society  being  now  organized, 
may  proceed  to  business,  or  fix  the  time  for  next  meeting 
and  adjourn. 

WARD,  DISTRICT,  OR   TOWNSHIP   MEETINGS. 

When  one  or  more  persons  desire  to  call  a  meeting  for  any 
purpose,  there  is  often  great  confusion  and  uncertainty  as  to 
the  mode  of  procedure.  A  few  simple  rules  will  go  far  to 
obviate  all  difficulty.  In  the  call,  those  only  who  are  favor- 


204  APPENDIX. 

able  to  the  intended  object  should  be  invited,  and  if  others 
attend,  they  should  take  no  part  in  the  meeting,  unless  chal- 
lenged to  discussion. 

The  responsibility  for  the  guidance  of  the  meeting  until  its 
regular  organization,  rests  on  those  who  have  called  it.  When 
the  people  have  met  at  the  appointed  time,  one  of  these  will 
ask  them  to  come  to  order,  and  will  then  nominate  a  chair- 
man ;  when  this  is  seconded,  he  will  put  it  to  vote,  and  call 
the  man  elected  to  the  chair,  who  will  put  all  other  motions. 
A  secretary  also  should  be  elected,  and  then  the  meeting  is 
regularly  organized.  The  chairman  next  states  the  object  of 
the  meeting,  or  if  he  prefers,  calls  upon  one  of  those  inter- 
ested to  do  it. 

Some  one  will  then  move  the  appointment  of  a  committee 
(which  is  said  to  be  the  American  panacea  for  everything) 
to  prepare  resolutions  expressive  of  the  wishes  or  opinion  of 
the  meeting.  If  the  names  of  the  persons  to  compose  the 
committee  be  not  mentioned  in  the  original  motion,  it  is  usual 
for  the  chairman  to  name  them,  putting  the  name  of  the 
mover  first  on  the  list.  The  chairman  may,  for  good  reasons, 
excuse  any  one  of  the  committee  from  acting,  if  there  be  no 
objections  on  the  part  of  the  assembly.  But  if  there  are,  he 
can  only  be  excused  by  vote.  The  committee  then  require 
some  time  to  make  their  report,  and  it  is  common  for  the 
chairman  to  call  on  some  one,  who  ought  to  be  notified  be- 
forehand, for  a  speech.  When  the  committee  have  finished 
their  business  they  will  return,  and  waiting  until  no  one  is 
speaking,  their  chairman  will  address  the  chairman  of  the 
meeting,  telling  him  that  they  are  ready  to  report.  If  no 
objection  is  made,  the  resolutions  prepared  are  then  read, 
and  are  at  the  disposal  of  the  meeting.  They  may  be  treated 
separately,  or  together,  amended,  adopted  or  rejected.  The 
resolutions  may  be  prepared  beforehand,  in  which  case  the 
appointment  of  the  committee  may  be  dispensed  with.  If 
the  resolutions  should  not  be  satisfactory,  they  may  be  re- 
committed. 

When  the  resolutions  have  been  disposed  of,  the  speaker 


APPENDIX.  205 

will  announce  that  there  is  no  business  before  the  house, 
which  will  either  bring  a  motion  to  adjourn,  or  new  business. 

DELEGATED    BODIES. 

All  legislatures,  boards  of  directors,  etc.,  hold  their  power 
only  in  trust  for  others  who  are  not  present,  and  are  there- 
fore held  to  stricter  limitations  in  the  performance  of  business 
than  those  assemblies  which  act  only  for  themselves.  In  case 
the  right  of  any  delegate  is  disputed,  this  must  be  settled  as 
soon  as  possible.  In  nearly  all  such  meetings  it  is  also  pro- 
vided that  many  things  shall  not  be  considered  as  determined 
until  referred  back  to  those  by  whom  the  members  were 
chosen.  With  these  exceptions,  and  the  special  rules  that 
such  bodies  may  provide>  they  are  under  the  strict  govern- 
ment of  parliamentary  law. 

CONTINUED    MEETINGS. 

When  any  body  holds  sessions  at  intervals,  it  becomes 
necessary  to  bear  in  mind  what  has  been  previously  done. 
This  is  accomplished  by  having  the  minutes  of  each  meeting 
read  at  the  beginning  of  the  next,  and  if  any  mistakes  exist 
they  are  corrected.  This  enables  the  assembly  to  take  up 
the  business  where  it  closed,  and  proceed  as  if  there  had  been 
no  interruption.  It  is  also  well  to  have  a  certain  order  of 
business  fixed,  which  shall  always  suggest  what  is  proper 
to  be  done  and  prevent  confusion.  This  order  will  necessa- 
rily diifer  in  the  various  kinds  of  meetings.  Legislative 
bodies,  from  the  great  variety  of  business  brought  before 
them,  can  seldom  fix  on  any  order  that  can  be  followed  from 
day  to  day,  but  they  often  establish  a  regular  order  for  a 
certain  time.  Matthias  suggested  the  following  arrangement 
for  business  meetings  of  bank  directors,  railway  stockhold- 
ers, etc. : 

1.  Presenting  communications  from  parties  outside  of  the 
meeting.  A  communication  is  read,  and  motions  for  action 
on  it  may  be  made,  amended,  and  passed  or  rejected.  After 


206  APPENDIX. 

this  has  been  done,  or  if  no  motion  is  made,  the  next  commu- 
nication is  taken  up. 

2.  Reports  of  standing  committees.     The  chairman  will 
call  for  these  in  their  order,  and  each  one,  if  prepared,  will 
be  read  by  the  chairman  of  the  committee.     It  should  close 
with  a  resolution  of  some  kind,  and  when  it  is  moved  and 
seconded  that  this  be  adopted,  it  may  be  discussed  and  de- 
termined as  the  assembly  see  fit.     The  minority  of  a  com- 
mittee may  make  a  separate  report  if  they  wish. 

3.  Treasurer's  report. 

4.  Unfinished  business. 

5.  New  business. 


II. 

GENERAL  RULES  OF  ORDER. 

QUORUM — RULES DECISION. 

1.  In  bodies  which  have  a  fixed  number  of  members,  a  cer- 
tain proportion  must  be  present  to  make  the  transaction  of 
business  valid.     The  number  may  be  fixed  by  the  expression 
of  the  assembly,  or  its  general  custom.     In  the  absence  of  any 
other  rule,  a  majority  is  sufficient.    The  chairman  should  not 
take  his  seat  until  he  sees  that  a  quorum  is  present,  and  if 
the  assembly  is  at  any  time  reduced  below  this  number,  noth- 
ing but  adjournment  is  in  order. 

2.  The  assembly  may  make  its  own  rules  in  whole  or  in 
part,  but  whatever  it  does  not  determine,  shall  be  subject  to 
the  common  rules  of  order. 

Any  member  has  -a  right  to  insist  on  the  enforcement  of 
the  rules,  but  this  duty  belongs  especially  to  the  chair. 

3.  In  the  absence  of  any  special  rule,  the  consent  of  a  ma- 
jority of  the  members  voting  is  requisite  to  determine  any 
point.      A  plurality,  where  more  than  two  issues  are  pre- 
sented, is  not  sufficient. 

OFFICERS. 

Presiding  and  recording  officers  are  necessary  in  every 
meeting,  and  must  be  chosen  by  an  absolute  majority.  When 
the  assembly  has  financial  matters  to  manage,  a  treasurer 
must  also  be  elected. 

PRESIDING   OFFICER. 

This  officer  is  known  by  various  titles,  such  as  chairman, 
president,  speaker,  moderator,  etc.  We  will  use  the  first. 
The  chairman  represents  the  assembly,  declares  its  will,  and 

(207) 


208  APPENDIX. 

obeys  it  implicitly.  He  must  be  treated  with  great  respect, 
although  his  power  is  only  a  delegated  one,  and  may  be  set 
aside  by  the  declared  will  of  the  assembly.  His  principal 
duties  are : 

1.  To  begin  the  session  by  taking  the  chair  and  calling  the 
members  to  order. 

2.  To  announce  business  in  its  order. 

3.  To  submit  all  motions  and  propositions. 

4.  To  put  all  questions  and  announce  the  result. 

5.  To  restrain  members  within  rules  of  order. 

6.  To  receive  all  communications  and  announce  them  to 
the  assembly. 

7.  To  sign  public  documents. 

8.  To  decide  points  of  order,  subject  to  an  appeal  to  the 
assembly. 

The  chairman  should  fully  understand  all  the  rules  of  busi- 
ness, be  kind  and  courteous  to  all,  but  prompt  and  firm,  for 
on  him,  more  than  any  other,  the  order  and  harmony  of  every 
meeting  depends. 

In  the  absence  of  the  chairman,  the  vice-president  takes 
the  chair,  and  when  there  is  no  such  officer,  a  temporary 
chairman  must  be  elected. 

The  chairman  may  read  while  sitting,  but  should  rise  to 
state  a  question  or  take  a  vote. 

RECORDING    OFFICER. 

Secretary  or  clerk  is  the  name  usually  bestowed  on  this 
officer.  We  will  employ  the  first.  It  is  his  duty  to  keep  a 
true  record  of  all  that  is  done  in  the  assembly.  Speeches 
and  motions  that  do  not  prevail,  need  not  be  recorded.  But 
it  is  sometimes  customary,  when  it  is  intended  to  publish 
the  proceedings,  and  no  reporter  is  present,  for  the  secretary 
to  make  the  minutes  take  the  form  of  a  journal. 

2.  The  secretary  must  keep  all  papers  that  belong  to  the 
society  in  safety ;  read  them  when  ordered ;  call  the  roll ; 
notify  committees  of  their  appointment  and  business ;  and 
sign  all  orders  and  proceedings  of  the  assembly. 


APPENDIX.  209 

3.  A  temporary  secretary  must  be  elected  during  the  ab- 
sence of  the  permanent  one,  unless  there  is  an  assistant  to 
take  his  place. 

4.  The  secretary  should  always  stand  in  reading,  or  calling 
the  roll. 

MEMBERS. 

1.  All  members  are  on  a  footing  of  absolute  equality,  and 
in  every  form  of  business  the  same  courtesy  and  attention 
should  be  shown  to  each  one  by  the  chair  and  by  all  other 
members. 

2.  Every  member  is  expected  to  observe  strict  decorum  in 
his  behavior.     Standing,  walking  about,  interrupting  speak- 
ers, hissing,  whispering,  taking  books  or  papers  from  the 
speaker's  table,  are  all  breaches  of  decorum. 

3.  Any  member  accused  of  disorderly  behavior  may,  when 
the  charge  is  stated,  be  heard  in  his  own  behalf,  and  is  then 
required  to  withdraw,  until  the  assembly  decides  as  to  his 
guilt  and  punishment.     He  may  be  reprimanded,  required  to 
apologize,  or  expelled. 

MOTIONS. 

1.  Business  can  only  be  introduced  into  an  assembly  by  a 
motion.     Persons,  not  members,  may  make  communications, 
or  send  petitions  asking  for  the  doing  of  certain  things ;  but 
these  must  be  taken  by  one  of  the  members,  and  by  him  read 
or  presented  to  the  assembly.     It  is  then  before  the  body  for 
consideration,  but  nothing  can  be  done  with  it  until  a  motion 
is  made  by  some  one  belonging  to  the  assembly. 

2.  An  assembly  expresses  its  opinion  by  a  resolution,  com- 
mands by  an  order,  and  determines  its  own  action  by  a  vote. 
A  member  who  wishes  to  secure  either  of  these,  draws  it  up 
in  the  form  he  desires  it  to  bear,  and  moves  that  the  assem- 
bly adopt  what  he  proposes.     He  must  first  obtain  the  floor. 
This  is  done  by  rising  and  addressing  the  chairman  by  his 
title.     If  there  be  no    previous   claimant,  the  chairman  re- 
sponds by  mentioning  the  speaker's  name,  when  he  is  at  liberty 


210  APPENDIX. 

to  go  on.  When  he  has  made  his  motion,  another  member 
must  second  it  before  the  assembly  will  receive  it  or  pay  any 
attention  to  it.  The  chair  or  any  member  may  insist  on  the 
motion  being  written,  unless  it  is  one  of  the  kind  that  have  a 
certain  form,  such  as  to  adjourn,  etc.  The  motion  when  sec- 
onded, is  to  be  stated  by  the  chair,  when  it  becomes  the  prop- 
erty of  the  assembly,  and  is  ready  for  debate  or  such  other 
action  as  may  be  preferred.  Suggestions  and  modifications 
of  the  motion  may  be  made,  or  it  may  be  withdrawn  alto- 
gether, before  this ;  but  not  after,  without  leave  of  the  assem- 
bly formally  expressed.  No  other  motion,  with  some  excep- 
tions to  be  hereafter  explained,  can  be  entertained  until  the 
first  is  disposed  of. 

When  a  motion  is  made  the  assembly  may  do  one  of  five 
things  with  it. 

1 .  Decide  it  in  the  shape  it  then  has. 

2.  Suppress  all  consideration  of  it  or  action  on  it. 

3.  Postpone  it  until  a  future  time. 

4.  Refer  it  to  a  committee  to  be  put  in  a  better  form. 

5.  Amend  it  themselves  before  deciding  it. 

We  will  consider  these  different  ways  of  treating  a  ques- 
tion in  their  order. 

1. — DECISION. 

It  is  always  to  be  taken  for  granted  that  the  assembly  is 
willing  to  decide  a  motion  at  once,  unless  some  one  moves  to 
adopt  one  of  the  other  courses.  It  may  be  repeated  first,  and 
when  no  one  rises,  the  chair  asks  if  they  are  ready  for  the 
question ;  if  no  one  responds,  it  is  put  to  vote. 

2. — SUPPRESSION. 

1.  Sometimes  the  assembly  does  not  wish  to  discuss  a  mo- 
tion at  all.     In  that  case  a  member  may  move  that  it  be  in- 
definitely postponed.     If  this  is  debated,  the  matter  remains 
as  it  was  before.     If  it  prevails,  the  matter  is  ended,  and  can 
only  be  brought  up  as  a  new  question. 

2.  The  motion  to  lay  a  subject  on  the  table  has  nearly  the 


APPENDIX.  211 

same  effect.     If  it  prevails,  the  subject  cannot  be  taken  up 
without  a  motion  to  that  effect. 

3.  The  famous  "  previous  question  "  has  a  totally  different 
purpose  in  this  country  and  England.     There  it  is  used  to 
postpone  a  question.     Its  form  is,  "  Shall  the  main  question 
now  be  put  ?"  and  it  is  moved  by  those  who  wish  to  obtain 
a  negative  decision,  the  effect  of  which  is  to  remove  the  ques- 
tion from  before  the  house  for  that  day,  and  by  usage  for  the 
whole  session. 

4.  In  this  country  it  is  used  to  prevent  debate,  and  is  only 
moved  by  those  who  wish  an  affirmative  decision.     When 
this  is  carried  the   question   must  be  voted  upon  without 
further  remarks.     A  majority  ought  to  use  this  power  of 
stopping  debate  very  sparingly,  and   never  without  good 
reason. 

3. POSTPONEMENT. 

If  the  assembly  is  not  prepared  to  act  upon  a  question,  or 
has  more  important  business  before  it,  the  proper  course  is 
for  some  one  to  move  that  it  be  postponed  until  a  certain 
time.  If  no  time  is  fixed  the  question  is  suppressed  alto- 
gether. If  the  assembly  is  dissolved  before  the  appointed 
day,  the  effect  is  the  same. 

4. COMMITMENT. 

If  the  form  of  the  motion  is  crude,  it  may  be  given  into  the 
hands  of  a  committee  to  perfect.  If  it  first  came  from  a  com- 
mittee, it  may  be  given  back  to  them,  which  is  called  a  re- 
commitment. -  The  whole  or  a  part  of  a  subject  may  be 
committed,  and  the  assembly  may,  by  vote,  give  such  instruc- 
tions as  it  desires.  This  motion  is  sometimes  made  use  of 
for  the  purpose  of  procuring  further  information. 

5. AMENDMENT. 

The  assembly  may  alter,  increase,  or  dimmish  any  propo- 
sition at  its  pleasure.  Its  nature  is  often  changed  entirely. 


212  APPENDIX. 

1.  Every  complicated  question  may  be  divided  by  a  regu- 
lar vote.     This  is  usually  done,  if  no  objection  is  offered, 
without  a  vote,  but  it  cannot  be  required  by  a  single  member 
as  is  sometimes  stated.     A  motion  to  divide  should  specify 
the  manner  of  division. 

2.  If  blanks  are  left  in  resolutions,  these  must  be  filled  by 
motion.     If  these  embrace  figures,  and  several  numbers  are 
proposed,  that  which  includes  the  others  may  be  put  to  vote 
first.     But  it  is  usually  as  well  to  put  first  that  which  is 
moved  first. 

3.  All  motions  to  amend,  except  by  division,  must  be  to 
amend  by  inserting  or  adding,  or  by  striking  out,  or  both. 

4.  An  amendment  may  be  accepted  by  the  mover  of  a  res- 
olution, if  no  objection  is  made,  for  then  general  consent  is 
presumed ;  but  not  otherwise. 

5.  It  is  strict  parliamentary  law  to  begin  with  the  begin- 
ning of  a  proposition,  and  after  the  latter  part  is  amended, 
not  to  return  to  a  former  part ;  but  this  is  seldom  insisted  on 
in  common  societies. 

6.  Every  amendment  is  susceptible  of  amendment,  but  this 
can  go  no  further.     But  the  second  amendment  may  be  de- 
feated, and  then  a  new  one  made  to  the  principal  amend- 
ment. 

7.  Whatever  is  agreed  to,  or  disagreed  to  by  the  accept- 
ance or  rejection  of  an  amendment  cannot  again  be  changed. 

8.  What   is   struck   out   cannot   be  inserted  by  another 
amendment,  unless  with  such  additions  as  to  make  it  a  new 
question.     Neither  can  what  is  retained  be  changed. 

9.  Before  putting  the  question  on  an  amendment,  the  pas- 
sage should  be  read  as  it  was ;  then  the  amendment ;  lastly 
the  passage  as  amended. 

10.  A  paragraph  that  is  inserted  by  vote  cannot  be  changed, 
but  it  may  be  amended  before  the  question  is  put. 

11.  When  the  amendment  is  both  to  strike  out  and  insert, 
these  two  may  be  divided  by  vote  or  general  consent,  and 
then  the  question  is  taken  first  on  striking  out. 


APPENDIX.  213 

PREFERRED    MOTIONS. 

When  a  motion  is  before  the  assembly,  it  must  be  disposed 
of  before  anything  else  can  be  brought  forward,  with  the 
exception  of  three  classes  of  questions.  These  are  privi- 
leged, incidental,  and  subsidiary  questions. 

1. PRIVILEGED    QUESTIONS. 

1.  The  motion  to  adjourn  takes  precedence  of  every  other, 
except  when  it  has  been  moved  and  defeated,  when  it  shall 
not  be  moved  again  until  something  else  has  been  done.     It 
cannot  be  moved  while  a  member  is  speaking,  or  a  vote  being 
taken.     But  to  be  entitled  to  such  precedence,  it  must  be  a 
simple  motion  to  adjourn,  without  question  of  time  or  place. 
If  these  are  added,  it  must  take  its  regular  turn.    An  adjourn- 
ment without  any  time  being  fixed,  is  equivalent  to  a  disso- 
lution, unless  this  has  been  provided  for  by  custom  or  especial 
rule.     At  adjournment  every  pending  question  is  taken  from 
before  the  assembly,  and  can  only  be  brought  up  again  in 
the  regular  way. 

2.  Any   question   affecting  the    rights   and   privileges  of 
members,  as  in  quarreling,  the  intrusion  of  strangers,  etc., 
comes  next  in  order  to  adjournment,  and  displaces  every- 
thing else. 

3.  If  the  assembly  fix  on  an  order  of  business  for  a  certain 
time,  when  that  time  arrives,  a  motion  to  take  up  this  order 
has  precedence  of  all  questions,  but  the  two  preceding. 

2. — INCIDENTAL    QUESTIONS. 

Incidental  questions  are  those  that  grow  out  of  other  ques- 
tions, and  must  be  decided  before  them. 

1.  Questions  of  order.  If  there  is  a  breach  of  rules  it  is 
the  duty  of  the  chair  to  enforce  them,  and  any  member  to 
call  for  their  enforcement.  This  should  be  done  at  once. 
When  there  is  a  doubt  as  to  what  constitutes  a  breach  of 
the  rules,  it  is  first  decided  by  the  chair,  subject  to  an  appeal 
to  the  assembly,  which  may  be  put  in  this  form,  "  Shall  the 


214  APPENDIX. 

decision  of  the  chair  stand  as  the  decision  of  the  assembly  ?" 
On  this  the  chair  may  debate  as  well  as  others,  but  the  vote 
is  final. 

2.  When  papers  are  laid  on  the  secretary's  table  for  the 
information  of  the  assembly,  any  member  may  demand  to 
have  them  read ;  but  other  papers  can  only  be  read  after  a 
regular  motion  is  carried  to  that  effect. 

3.  After  a  motion  is  stated  by  the  chair,  permission  may 
be  given  to  withdraw  it  by  a  regular  vote. 

4.  A  rule  that  interferes  with  the  transaction  of  any  busi- 
ness may  be  suspended  by  a  unanimous  vote,  or  in  accord- 
ance with  the  provisions  of  a  special  rule  which  points  out 
the  majority  requisite,  such  as  two-thirds,  three-fourths,  etc. 

3. — SUBSIDIARY    QUESTIONS. 

These  relate  to  the  principal  question  as  secondary  planets 
do  to  their  primaries.  They  are  of  different  degrees  among 
themselves,  and  with  a  few  exceptions  are  not  applied  to  one 
another. 

1.  "  Lie  on   the  table."     This  takes  precedence  of  all  the 
subsidiary  motions.     If  carried,  it   takes  the  principal  ques- 
tion and  all  that  belongs  to  it  from  the  consideration  of  the 
assembly,  and  they  can  only  be  brought  up  by  a  new  mo- 
tion.    If  decided  in  the  negative,  this  question,  like  all  the 
others  of  the  same  class,  except  the  previous  question,  has  no 
effect  whatever. 

2.  "  Previous  question."     This  motion  can  only  be  super- 
seded by  that  to  lay  on  the  table.     If  lost,  the  question  is 
not  before  the  house  for  the  remainder  of  that  day. 

3.  A  motion  to  postpone  may  be  amended  by  fixing  the 
time  or  changing  it.     If  several  days  are   mentioned,  the 
longest  time  should  be  put  first. 

4.  A  motion  to  commit  takes  precedence  of  a  motion  to 
amend,  but  stands  in  the  same  rank  with  the  others,  except 
to  lay  on  the  table,  and  cannot  be  superseded  by  them,  if 
moved  first. 

5.  A  motion  to  amend  may  be  amended.     It  is  not  super- 


APPENDIX.  215 

seded  by  the  previous  question,  or  a  motion  for  indefinite 
postponement,  but  is  by  a  motion  to  postpone  till  a  time  cer- 
tain, or  to  commit. 

It  is  very  important  that  the  order  of  these  secondary  ques- 
tions be  carefully  observed,  as  there  may  be  many  of  them 
pending  at  once. 

DEBATE. 

Debate  in  a  society  organized  for  the  purpose  of  discussion, 
and  in  a  deliberative  body  are  quite  different.  In  the  former 
reply  is  expected,  arid  may  be  bandied  back  and  forth  several 
times.  In  the  latter  the  object  is  supposed  to  be  giving  in- 
formation, and  each  member  is  limited  to  one  speech,  unless 
special  permission  is  received  to  speak  again.  The  chair 
must  not  take  part  in  debates. 

1.  When  a  member  wishes  to  speak,  he  obtains  the  floor 
in  the  same  manner  as  if  to  offer  a  motion.     The  mover  of  a 
resolution  is  usually  allowed  the  floor  first,  but  this  is  a  mat- 
ter of  courtesy  rather  than  right. 

2.  When  a  speaker  gives  up  the  floor  for  any  purpose,  he 
loses  his  right  to  it,  though  as  a  favor  he  is  often  allowed 
to  continue  his  speech. 

3.  No  names  are  to  be  used  in  debate,  but  when  it  becomes 
necessary  to  designate  an  individual,  some  description  may 
be  used,  as,  the  gentleman  on  the  right,  etc. 

4.  Every  member  must  stand,  when  speaking,  unless  sick 
or  disabled. 

5.  Motions  to  adjourn,  to  lay  on  the  table,  for  the  previous 
question,  or  the  order  of  the  day  cannot  be  debated. 

6.  No  member  shall  use  abusive  language  against  any  of 
the  acts  of  the  assembly,  or  indulge  in  personal  denunciations 
of  ether  members.     Wrong  motives  must  not  be  attributed 
to  any  one.     If  a  speaker  digresses  widely  from  the  subject, 
and  appears  to  misunderstand  its  nature,  he  may  be  called 
to  order. 

7.  A  member  who  is  decided  to  be  out  of  order  loses  his 
right  to  the  floor,  but  this  is  seldom  insisted  on. 


216  APPENDIX. 

8.  A  member  cannot  speak  more  than  once  on  the  same 
question  without  special  permission,  which  must  not  bu  given 
until  all  have  spoken;  but  he  may  speak  on  amendments,  and 
on  the  same  subject,  when  it  is  returned  from  a  committee. 

10.  A  member  who  has  been  misrepresented  has  the  right 
to  explain,  but  not  to  interrupt  any  one  who  is  speaking  for 
that  purpose. 

11.  Debate  may  be  stopped  by  the  previous  question  ;  by 
determining  in  advance  that  at  a  certain  time,  the  question 
shall  be  decided ;  or  by  adopting  a  rule  limiting  each  mem- 
ber to  so  many  minutes.     In  the  latter  case,  the  chair  an- 
nounces the  expiration  of  the   time,  and  the  member  takes 
his  seat. 

12.  Every  member  should  be  listened  to  with  respect,  and 
no  attempt  made  to  interrupt  him,  unless  he  transgress  the 
bounds  of  order.     Calling  for  the  question,  hissing,  cough- 
ing, etc.,  should  be  restrained  by  the  chair  if  possible.     The 
speaker  may  learn  from  these  things  that  the  assembly  does 
not  wish  to  hear  him,  but  he  is  not  bound  to  heed  them.     If 
necessary,  the   chair  will  name  the  obstinate  offenders  for 
punishment,  who  may  be  heard  in  their  own  defence,  but 
must  then  withdraw  while  the  assembly  determines  what 
punishment   should  be  inflicted.     But  if  all  means  of  pre- 
serving order  fail,  and  the  chairman's  repeated  calls  are  un- 
noticed, he  is  not  responsible  for  this  disorder,  although  it 
would  be  better  then  to  resign  an  office  that  he  can  no  longer 
make  respected,  unless  so  bound  by  public  duty  that  he  can- 
not take  this  course. 

13.  If  a  member  in  speaking  makes  use  of  disorderly  words, 
notice  should  be  taken  at  once.  The  words  used,  if  the 
offence  is  serious,  should  be  reduced  to  writing  while  fresh 
in  the  memory  of  all.  If  necessary,  the  assembly  may  deter- 
mine what  words  were  used,  whether  they  were  offensive  or 
not,  and  at  its  pleasure  require  an  apology,  censure,  or  expel 
the  offender.  If  other  business  is  done  before  attention 
is  called  to  the  disorderly  words,  they  cannot  again  be 
taken  up. 


APPENDIX.  217 


PUTTIXG    THE    QUESTION. 

When  discussion  and  all  preliminary  matters  are  finished, 
the  next  step  is  to  ascertain  the  will  of  the  assembly.  There 
are  six  ways  of  doing  this.  We  will  put  first  those  that  are 
most  used: 

1.  The  chair  asks,  "  Are  you  ready  for  the  question  ?"    No 
objection  being  made,  he  first  puts  the   affirmative,  asking 
those  who  favor  the  motion  to  say,  "  Aye ;"  those  who  are 
opposed,  "  No."     He  judges  from  the  volume  of  sound,  and 
declares  which  he  believes  has  the  majority.      If  any  one 
doubts  this,  he  may  require  the  vote  to  be  taken  in  a  more 
exact  way. 

2.  In  place  of  saying  "  aye,"  the  affirmative  may  be  asked 
to  hold  up  their  hands ;  then  when  these  are  down  the  same 
is  asked  of  the  negative.     The  determination  in  this  case  IP 
the  same  as  in  the  former  case. 

3.  The  affirmative  may  be  required  to  rise  to  their  feet  and 
be  counted  ;  and  when  seated  the  negative  will  rise.     These 
will  also  be  counted,  and  this  is  the  mode  most  commonly  re- 
sorted to,  when  the  result  as  declared  by  the  chair,  from  the 
former  methods,  is  doubted. 

4.  In  this  the  affirmative  and  negative  may  stand  up  at 
once,  but  in  different  parts  of  the  house,  and  be  counted. 
This  is  a  real  "  division." 

5.  The  method  by  ballot  may  be  employed;    each  man 
writing  his  wish  on  a  ticket.    These  are  collected  and  counted. 
This  mode  is  often  employed  in  the  election  of  officers,  but 
seldom  in  the  determination  of  simple  questions. 

6.  The  roll  may  be  called  by  the  secretary,  and  each  man 
in  his  place  answer,  "  Aye,"  or  "  No."    These  are  marked  by 
the  secretary,  and  others  who  keep  tally,  and  the  result  an- 
nounced.    Sometimes  the  names  are  entered  on  the  journals, 
in  two  lists  of  "  Aye  "  and  "  No."    The  word  "  Yea,"  is  often 
used  in  place  of  "  Aye." 

The  chair  has  a  casting  vote  in  case  of  equal  division. 
A  member  who  voted  with  the  affirmative  may  move  the 
10 


218  APPENDIX. 

reconsideration  of  any  question,  and  if  his  motion  is  carried, 
the  whole  matter  is  opened  up  as  it  was  at  first,  and  may  be 
discussed  as  before. 

COMMITTEES. 

The  use  of  a  committee  is  to  give  a  subject  more  careful 
consideration  than  it  could  receive  in  a  full  assembly.  They 
are  of  three  kinds.  From  their  great  importance  they  are 
said  to  be  the  eyes  and  ears  of  the  assembly. 

1.  Standing  committees  are  those  that  are  appointed  to 
take  charge  of  all  subjects  of  a  certain  character  during  a 
session,  or  other  specified  time. 

2.  Select  committees  are  appointed  to  take  charge  of  some 
one  thing,  and  when  that  is  finished  they  are  dissolved,  al- 
though they  may  be  revived  again  by  a  vote  of  the  assembly. 

In  appointing  a  committee,  the  first  thing  is  to  fix  on  a 
number:  if  several  are  named,  the  largest  should  be  put  first. 
The  committees  may  be  chosen  by  ballot;  appointed  by  the 
chair;  or  elected  by  nomination  and  vote.  The  latter  is  the 
regular  mode  when  there  is  no  special  rule,  but  the  second  is 
most  frequently  practised.  Sometimes  a  committee  is  ap- 
pointed to  nominate  all  other  committees,  but  this  is  not 
usually  the  case.  The  mover  and  seconder  of  a  resolution 
should  have  place  on  a  committee  appointed  to  consider  it, 
and,  as  a  general  rule,  none  but  those  who  are  friendly  to  the 
object  to  be  accomplished  should  be  appointed.  Those  op- 
posed can  make  their  opposition  when  it  is  returned  to  th« 
assembly. 

It  is  the  duty  of  the  secretary  of  the  assembly  to  make  out 
a  list  of  the  members  of  a  committee,  and  hand  to  the  person 
first  named  on  it,  who  is  its  chairman,  unless  the  committee 
shall  choose  to  elect  another. 

The  assembly  can  fix  the  times  and  places  of  the  meeting 
of  a  committee ;  if  this  is  not  done,  it  can  choose  for  itself, 
but  cannot  sit  while  the  assembly  is  in  session  without  a 
special  order. 

In  all  forms  of  procedure  the  committee  is  governed  by 


APPENDIX.  219 

the  same  rules  as  the  assembly,  but  a  little  less  strictness  is 
observed  in  their  enforcement. 

Disorderly  conduct  in  a  committee  can  only  be  noted  down 
and  reported  to  the  assembly. 

When  any  paper  has  been  referred  to  a  committee,  it  must 
be  returned  as  it  was,  with  proposed  amendments  written 
separately.  They  cannot  reject  any  matter,  but  can  return 
it  to  the  assembly  without  change,  stating  their  reasons  for 
taking  no  action. 

When  a  committee  is  prepared  to  report,  its  chairman 
announces  the  fact,  and  he,  or  an  other  member,  may  make 
a  motion  that  the  report  be  received  at  that,  or  some  other 
specified  time.  If  nothing  is  said,  it  is  assumed  that  the  as- 
sembly is  ready  to  receive  it  immediately. 

At  the  time  fixed,  the  chairman  reads  the  report,  and  passes 
it,  with  all  the  papers  belonging  to  it,  to  the  secretary's  table, 
where  it  awaits  the  action  of  the  assembly.  • 

Any  report  from  a  committee  may  be  treated  by  amend- 
ment, etc.,  just  as  if  it  originated  in  the  assembly. 

The  final  question  is  on  the  adoption  of  the  report;  if  this 
is  agreed  to,  it  stands  as  the  action  of  the  whole  assembly. 

3.  The  third  form  of  committee  is  the  "  committee  of  the 
whole."  It  embraces  the  entire  assembly.  When  the  assem- 
bly wishes  to  go  into  committee,  a  motion  to  that  effect  is 
made,  seconded,  and  put ;  if  carried,  the  chairman  nominates 
a  person  as  chairman  of  the  committee,  who  takes  his  seat  at 
the  secretary's  table.  The  chairman  of  the  assembly  must 
remain  at  hand  in  readiness  to  resume  his  seat  when  the 
committee  shall  rise.  The  secretary  does  not  record  the  pro- 
ceedings of  the  committee,  but  only  their  report.  A  special 
secretary  must  be  appointed  for  their  use. 

The  following  are  the  main  points  of  difference  between 
the  "  committee  of  the  whole"  and  the  assembly: 

1.  The  previous  question  cannot  be  moved,  but  the  com- 
mittee may  rise  and  thus  stop  debate. 

2.  The  committee    cannot   adjourn ;    it  may  rise,  report 
progress,  and  ask  leave  to  sit  again. 


220  APPENDIX. 

3.  In  committee  a  member  may  speak  as  often  as  he  can 
get  the  floor;  in  the  assembly,  but  once. 

4.  The  committee  cannot  refer  a  matter  to  another  com- 
mittee. 

5.  The  chairman  of  the  assembly  can  take  part  in  commit- 
tee proceedings. 

6.  The  committee  has  no  power  to  punish  its  members,  but 
can  report  them. 

When  the  committee  is  prepared  to  close,  a  motion  is 
made  and  seconded  that  it  rise;  if  carried,  the  chairman 
leaves  his  seat,  the  chairman  of  the  assembly  takes  his  usual 
place,  and  the  committee  report  is  given  in  the  same  form  as 
from  a  special  committee. 

This  brief  synopsis  has  been  compiled  from  various  sources. 
The  excellent  manuals  of  Gushing  and  Matthias  have  been 
especially  consulted.  It  is  believed  to  embrace  all  that  is 
essential  for  conducting  business  in  ordinary  assemblies. 
The  man  who  masters  these  simple  rules,  which  may  be  done 
in  a  few  hours,  is  prepared  to  assist  in  the  performance  of 
any  public  business,  and  if  called  upon  to  act  as  chairman, 
as  any  one  may  be,  he  will  be  free  from  embarrassment. 


Sent  Prepaid  by  Post  at  Prices  Annexed. 


PUBLISHED   BY 

SAMUEL  R.  WELLS,  No.  389  BROADWAY,  NEW  YORK. 


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ment of  Children  and  Youth.  1  vol.  12mo,  312  pp.  Muslin,  $1  75. 

This  is  the  second  work  in  the  series  of  Mr.  Fowler's  "  Education  and  Self-Im- 
provement Complete."  "  Self-made  or  never  made."  is  the  motto  of  the  work  which 
IB  devoted  to  moral  improvement,  or  the  proper  cultivation  and  regulation  of  the  affec- 
tions and  moral  sentiments. 

Self -Instructor  in  Phrenology  and  Physiology.    New  Illustrated. 

With  over  One  Hundred  Engravings,  together  with  a  Chart  for  the  Recording  of 
Phrenological  Developments,  for  the  use  of  Phrenologists.  By  the  Brothers  FOW- 
LER. Muslin,  75  cents ;  Paper,  50  cents. 

This  is  intended  as  a  te.tt-book,  and  is  especially  adapted  to  phrenological  examiners, 
to  be  used  as  a  chart,  and  for  learners,  in  connection  with  the  «  Phrenological  Bust." 

Moral  Philosophy.  By  GEORGE  COMBE.  Or,  the  Duties  of  Man  con- 
sidered in  his  Individual,  Domestic  and  Social  Capacities.  Reprinted  from  the 
Edinburgh  Edition.  With  the  Author's  latest  corrections.  1  vol.  12mo,  834  pp. 
Muslin,  $1  75. 

This  work  appears  in  the  form  of  Lectures  delivered  by  the  Author  to  an  associa- 
tion formed  by  the  industrious  classes  of  Edinburgh  ;  they  created  at  the  time  consider- 
able excitement.  The  course  consisted  of  twenty  consecutive  lectures  on  Moral  Phil- 
osophy, and  are  invaluable  to  students  of  Phrenology.  Lecturers  on  Morality  and  the 
Natural  Laws  of  Man.  Address,  SAMUEL  R.  WELLS,  No.  889  Broadway,  New  York. 


SAMUEL  R.  WELLS'  PUBLICATIONS.  15 


MISCELLANEOUS  WORKS   ON   PHRENOLOGY. 

Annuals  of  Phrenology  and  Physiognomy. — By  S.  R.  WELLS,  Edi- 
tor of  the  Phrenological  Journal.  One  small  yearly  12mo  volumo.  For  1865,  '66 
and  1867.  The  three,  containing  over  150  illustrations,  for  40  cents.  For  1867.  one 
small  12mo  vol..  58  pp.  Containing  many  portraits  and  biographies  of  distin- 
guished personages,  together  with  articles  on  ''How  to  Study  Phrenology," 
u  Bashfulness,  Diffidence,  Stammering,"1  etc.,  20  cents.  For  1808,  12mo,  70pp. 
Containing  an  elaborate  article  on  "  The  Marriage  of  Cousins,"  etc.,  etc.,  25  cents. 

Charts  for  Recording  the  Various  Phrenological  Developments. 

Designed  for  Phrenologists.    By  the  Brothers  FOWLER.    Price,  only  10  cents. 

Chart  of  Physiognomy  Illustrated, — Designed  for  Framing,  and  for 
Lecturers.  By  S.  R.  WELLS,  Author  of  New  Physiognomy.  In  map  Form.  Printed 
on  fine  paper.  A  good  thing  for  learners.  Price,  25  cents. 

Domestic  Life,  Thoughts  On  ;  Or,  Marriage  Vindicated  and  Free 
Love  Exposed.  By  NELSON  SIZEK.  12mo,  72  pp.  Paper,  25  cents. 

This  is  a  work  consisting  of  three  valuable  lectures,  part  of  an  extended  course 
delivered  in  the  city  of  Washington.  The  favor  with  which  they  were  received,  and 
the  numerous  requests  for  their  publication,  resulted  in  the  present  work. 

Phrenology  and  the  Scriptures. — Showing  the  Harmony  existing 

between  Phrenology  and  the  Bible.    By  Rev.  JOHN  PIERPONT.    Price  25  cents. 
"  A  full  explanation  of  many  passages  of  Scripture." — Neio  York  Mirror. 

Phrenological  Guide. — Designed  for  Students  of  their  own  Character. 
Twenty-Fifth  Edition.  Illustrated.  12mo,  54  pp.  Paper,  25  cents. 

Phrenological  Specimens  ;  For  Societies  and  Private  Cabinets.  For 
Lecturers ;  including  Casts  of  the  Meads  of  most  remarkable  men  of  history. 
See  our  Descriptive  Catalogue.  Forty  casts,  not  mailable,  $35. 

Phrenological  I?n.st. — Showing  the  latest  classification,  and  exact  loca- 
tion of  the  Organs  of  the  Brain,  fully  developed,  designed  for  Learners.  In  this 
Bust,  all  the  newly-discovered  Organs  are  given.  It  is  divided  so  as  to  show  each 
individual  Organ  on  one  side  ;  and  all  the  groups — Social,  Executive,  Intellectual, 
and  moral— properly  classified,  on  the  other  side.  It  is  now  extensively  used  i.i 
England,  Scotland  and  Ireland,  and  on  the  Continent  of  Europe,  and  is  almost  th«? 
only  one  in  use  here.  There  are  two  sizes — the  largest  near  the  size  of  life — ie 
sold  in  Box,  at  $1  75.  The  smaller,  which  is  not  more  than  six  inches  high,  and 
may  be  carried  in  the  pocket,  is  only  75  cents.  Not  mailable. 

Phrenolosry  at  Home. — How  can  T  learn  Phrenology  ?  What  books 
are  best  for  me  to  read  ?  Is  it  possible  to  acquire  a  knowledge  of  it  without  a 
teacher  ?  These  are  questions  put  to  us  daily  ;  and  we  may  say  in  reply,  that  we 
have  arranged  a  series  of  the  best  works,  with  a  Bust,  showing  the  exact  location 
of  all  the  Phrenological  Organs,  with  such  Illustrations  and  Definitions  as  to  make 
the  study  simple  and  plain  without  the  aid  of  a  teacher.  The  cost  for  this  "  Stu- 
dent's Set,"  which  embraces  all  that  is  requisite,  is  only  $10.  It  may  be  sent  by 
express,  or  as  freight,  safely  boxed— not  by  mail— to  any  part  of  the  world. 

66  Mirror  of  the  Mind ;"  Or,  Your  Character  from  your  Likeness. 
For  particulars  how  to  have  pictures  taken,  inclose  a  prepaid  envelope,  directed  to 
yourself,  for  answer.  Address,  SAMUEL  R.  WELLS,  No.  380  Broadway,  New  York. 


SAMT/EL  R.  WELLS'  PUBLICATIONS. 


STANDARD   ^OI\K   ON   PHYSIOGNOMY. 


New  Physiognomy  ;   Or,  Sitfiis  of  Character,  as  manifested  through 

Temperament  and  External  Forms,  and  especially  in  the  "  Human  Face  Divine." 

With  more  than  One  Thousand  Illustrations.    By  S.  R.  WELLS.    In  three  styles  of 

binding.        Price,  in  one  12mo  volume,  768  pp.,  handsomely  bound  in  muslin,  $5  ; 

ID  heavy  calf,  marbled  edges,  $8  ;  Turkey  morocco,  full  gilt,  $10. 

This  work  systematizes  and  shows  the  scientific  basis  on  which  each  claim  rests.   The 

"  Signs  of  Character  "  are  minutely  elucidated,  and  so  plainly  stated  as  to  render  them 

available. 

thorough  , 

eral  Principles  of 

dicative  of  Charac 

Nose,  the  Eyes,  the  Cheeks,  the  Ears,  the  Neck,  etc.  ;    '"  The  Hands  and    ! 
"  Signs  of  Character  in  Action."1—  the  Walk,  the  Voice,  the  Lauirh.  Shaking  Hands, 
the  Style  of  Dress,  etc.  ;    ••Insanity;"    "Idiocy:"  "Effects  of  Climate;"    "  Ethnol- 
ogy :"   "  National  Types;'1   '•  Plivsfognomy  of  Classes,"  with  grouped  portraits  ,   iu- 
crading  Divines,  Orators.  Statesmen,  Warriors,  Artists,  Poets,  Philosophers,  Inven- 
tors, Pugilist*.  Surgeons,  Discoverere,  Actors,  Musicians;  "Transmitted  Ph\>ioL'- 
nomies  ;"  "  Love  Signs  ;''  "  Grades  of  Intelligence  ;"  '•  Comparative  l'n\  - 
"  Personal  Improvement;  or,  How  to  bo  Beautiful;"  "Handwriting;"  "Studies  from 
Lavater  ;"  "  Physiognomy  Applied  :"  "  Physiognomical  Anecdotes,"  etc. 

It  is  an  Encyclopedia  of  biography.  Acquainting  the  reader  with  the  career  and  char- 
acter, in  brief,  of  many  great  man  and  women  of  the  pa>t  one  thousand  years,  and  of 
the  present—  such  for  instance,  as  Aristotle.  Julius  Ca-sar.  Shakspeare.  Washington, 
Napoleon,  Franklin,  Bancroft,  Bryant,  Longfellow,  Barnes,  Irving.  Rosa  Bonneur, 
Theodosia  Burr,  Cobden,  Bright.  'Lawrence.  \Vliatelv,  Thackeray,  Knox,  Richelieu, 
Dickens,  Victoria,  Wesley,  Carlyle,  Motley,  Mill,  Spencer,  Thompson,  Alexander,  etc. 

APPARATUS     FOR     PHRENOLOGICAL     j^ECTUF^ES, 

Phrenological  Specimens,  for  the  use  of  Lecturers,  Societies,  or  for 
Private  Cabinets.  Forty  Casts,  not  mailable.  May  be  sent  as  freight.  Price.  #35. 

These  specimens  were  cast  from  living  heads,  and  from  skulls.  They  afford  an 
excellent  contrast,  showing  the  organs  of  the  brain,  both  large  and  small.  Lecturers 
may  here  obtain  a  collection  which  affords  the  necessary  means  of  illustration  and 
comparison.  This  select  cabinet  is  composed,  in  part,  of  the  following: 

John  Quincy  Adams,  Aaron  Burr,  Georsre  Combe,  Elihu  Burritt.  Col.  Thomas  H. 
Benton,  Black  Hawk,  Henry  Clay,  Rev.  Dr.^Dodd,  Thomas  Addis  Emmet,  Clara  Fisher, 
Dr.  Gall.  Rev.  Sylvester  Urahain.  M.  I)..  (Josse.  Gottfried.  Harrawaukay,  Joseph  C. 
Neal,  Napoleon  Bonaparte.  Sir  Walter  Scott.  Voltaire,  Hon.  Silas  Wright.  Water- 
Brain,  Idiot,  etc.  MASKS  of  Brunei],  Benjamin  Franklin.  Haydn,  etc.  CASTS  FROM 
THE  SKULLS  of  King  Robert  Bruce.  Patty  Cannon.  Carib,  Tardy.  Diana  Waters.  A 
Cast  from  the  Human  Brain.  A  Human  Head,  divided,  showing  the  naked  Brain  on 
one  side,  and  the  Skull  on  the  other,  and  the  Phrenological  Bust. 

The  entire  list,  numbering  Forty  of  our  best  phrenological  specimens,  may  be  packed 
and  eeut  as  freight  by  railroad,  ship,  or  stage,  to  any  place  desired,  with  perfect  safety. 

Human  Skulls,  from  $5  to  $10,  or  $15.    Articulated,  $25  to  $60. 
Human  Skeletons,  from  $35  to  $75.    French  Manikins,  to  order. 

Sets  of  Forty  India  Ink  Drawings,  of  noted  Characters,  suitable  for 

Lecturers.    Price,  $30.    On  Canvass,  in  sets,  $40. 

Oil  Paintings  —  Portraits,  —  can  be  had  to  order,  from  $5  each,  upwards. 
Anatomical  and  Physiological  Plates  Mounted.—  WEBER'S,  11  in 

number,  $50.    TRAIL'S,  6  in  number,  $30.    LAMBERT'S,  6  in  number,  $20.    K»b- 
LOOO'S,  from  the  French  of  Bourgeoise  and  Jacobs.     Very  fine.    20  in  number,  $15. 

We  can  supply  all  Works  on  Phrenology,  Physiology,  Anatomy,  Hydropathy,  etc., 
Maps,  Charts,  Manikins,  Skulls,  Skeletons,  and  Apparatus,  for  the  use  of  Lecturers. 


SAMUEL  K.  WELLS'  PUBLICATIONS.  17 


WORKS   ON    PHYSIOLOGY. 

Food   and    Diet,    A   Treatise. — With  observations  on  the  Dietetical 

Regimen,  suited  for  Disordered  States  of  the  Digestive  Organs,  and  an  account  of 
the  Dietaries  of  some  of  the  Principal  Metropolitan  and  other  Establishments  for 
Paupers,  Lunatics,  Criminals,  Children,  the  Sick,  etc.  By  JONATHAN  PEREIRA. 
M.  D.,  F.  R.  S.  and  L.  S.  Edited  by  CHARLES  A.  LEE,  M.  D.  Octavo,  318  pp 
Muslin.  $1  75. 

An  important  physiological  work.  Considerable  pains  have  been  taken  in  the  pre- 
paration of  tables  representing  the  proportion  of  some  of  the  chemical  elements,  and 
of  the  alimentary  principles  contained  in  different  foods.  The  work  is  accurate  and 
complete. 

Fruits  and  Farinacea  the  Proper  Food  of  Man. — Being  an  attempt 

tc  Prove  by  History,  Anatomy,  Physiology  and  Chemistry,  that  the  Original. 
Natural  and  Best  Diet  of  Man,  is  derived  from  the  Vegetable  Kingdom.  By  JOHN 
SMITH.  With  Notes  and  Illustrations.  By  R.  T.  TRALL,  M.  D.  From  the  Second 
London  Edition.  12mo.  314  pp.  Muslin  $1  75. 

This  i<  a  text-book  of  facts  and  principles  connected  with  the  vegetarian  question, 
and  is  a  very  desirable  work. 

Her;<lit:iry  Descent  :   Its  Laws  and  Facts  applied  to  Human  Improve- 
ment.    Physiological.    By  Mr.  FOWLER.    12mo,  288  pp.    Muslin.  $1  50. 

Hum-ill  Voice,  The. — Its  Right  Management  in  Speaking,  Reading 
and  Debating.  Including  the  Principles  of  True  Eloquence,  together  with  the 
Functions  of  the  Vocal  Organs,  the  Motion  of  the  Letters  of  the  Alphabet,  the 
Cultivation  of  the  Ear,  the  Disorders  of  the  Vocal  and  Articulating  Organs,  Origin 
and  Construction  of  the  English  Language,  Proper  Methods  of  Delivery.  Remedial 
Effects  of  Reading  and  Speaking,  etc.  By  the  Rev.  W.  W.  EAZAJ.ET,  A.  M. 
12mo,  40  pp.  Muslin  Flex.,  50  cents. 
This  work  contains  many  suggestions  of  great  value  to  those  who  desire  to  speak 

and  read  well.    Regarding  the  right  management  of  the  voice  as  intimately  connected 

with  health,  as  well  as  one  of  the  noblest  and  most  useful  accomplishments  ;  the  work 

should  be  read  by  all. 

Illustrated    Family    (T.vmnasium. — Containing  the    most    improved 
methods  of  applying  Gymnastic,  Calisthenic,  Kinesipathic  and  Vocal  Exercises 
to  the  Development  of  the  Bodily  Organs,  the  invigoration  of  their  functions, 
the  preservation  of  Health,  and  the  Cure  of  Disease  and  Deformities.    With  numer- 
ous illustrations.    By  R.  T.  TBALL,  M.  D.    12mo,  215  pp.    Muslin,  $1  75. 
In  this  excellent  work,  the  author  has  aimed  to  select  the  very  best  materials  from 
all  accessible  sources,  and  to  present  a  sufficient  variety  of  examples  to  meet  all  the 
demands  of  human  infirmity,  so  far  as  exercise  is  to  be  regarded  as  the  remedial  agency. 

Management  ot*  Infancy,  Physiological  and  Moral  Treatment  on  the. 

By  ANDREW  OOMBK,  M.  D.    With  Notes  and  a  Supplementary  Chapter.    By  JOHH 

BBLL.  M.  D.     l>2iro.  307  pp.    Muslin.  $1  50. 

This  .t»  one  of  the  nest  treatises  on  the  management  of  infancy  extant.  Few  others 
are  ^-0  well  cuh'iihted  to  supply  mothers  with  the  kind  of  information  which,  in  their 
circumstances,  is  especially  ueened. 

Philosophy  of   Sacred    History,  Considered  in   Relation  to  Human 

Aliment  and  the  Wines  of  Scripture.    By  GRAHAM.    12mo,  580  pp.    Cloth,  #3  50. 

A  work  highly  useful,  both  for  study  and  reference,  to  all  who  arc  interested  in  the 

great  question  of  Biblical  History  in  "relation  to  the  great  moral  reforms,  which  are 

acknowledged  as  union?  the  most  prominent  features  of  the  nineteenth  century.     It  in 

among  the  most  valuable  contributions  to  Biblical  and  reformatory  literature. 


SAMUEL  R.  WELLS'  PUBLICATIONS. 


Physiology,  Animal  and  Mental :  Applied  to  the  Preservation  and 
Restoration  of  Health  of  Body  and  Power  of  Mind.  Sixth  Edition.  12mo,  312  pp. 
Illustrated.  Muslin,  $1  50. 

The  title  of  this  work  indicates  the  character  of  this  admirable  phvsiological  »vork. 
Its  aim  is  to  preserve  and  restore  health  of  body  and  power  of  mind.  The  motto 
is,  "  A  sound  mind  in  a  sound  body." 

Physiology  of  Digestion. — Considered  with  relation  to  the  Principles 
of  Dietetics.  By  ANDREW  COMBE,  M.  D.  Follow  of  the  Royal  College  of  Physicians 
of  Edinburgh.  Tenth  Edition.  Illustrated.  18mo,  310  pp.  Price,  50  cents. 

The  object  of  this  work  is  to  lay  before  the  public  a  plain  and  intelligent  description 
of  the  structure  and  uses  of  the  most  important  organs  of  the  body,  and  to  bhow  how 
information  of  this  kind  may  be  usefully  applied  in  practical  life. 

Practical  Family  Dentist. — A  Poptilar  Treatise  on  the  Teeth.  Ex- 
hibiting the  means  necessary  and  efficient  to  secure  their  health  and  preserva- 
tion. Also,  the  various  errors  and  pernicious  practices  which  prevail  in  relation 
to  Dental  Treatment.  With  a  variety  of  useful  Receipts  for  Remedial  Compounds. 
Designed  for  Diseases  of  the  Teeth  and  Gums.  By  D.  C.  WERNER,  M.  D.  $1  50. 

This  is  a  work  which  should  b«  in  the  hands  of  all  who  wish  to  keep  their  teeth  in 
a  good  and  healthy  condition.  The  author  treats  on  the  subject  in  a  practical  manner. 

Principles  of  Physiology  applied  to  the  Preservation  of  Health  and 
to  the  Improvement  of  Physical  and  Mental  Education.  By  ANDREW  COMBE,  M. 
D.,  Physician  Extraordinary  to  the  Queen  of  England,  and  Consulting  Physician 
to  the  King  and  Queen  of  the  Belgians.  Illustrated  with  Wood  Cuts.  To  which  are 
added  Notes  and  Observations.  By  Mr.  FOWLER.  Printed  from  the  Seventh 
Edinburgh  Edition.  Enlarged  and  Improved.  Octavo,  320  pp.  Muslin,  $1  75. 

"  One  of  the  best  practical  works  on  Physiology  extant." 


Science  of  Human  Life,  Lectures  on  the,— By  SYLVESTER  GRATIAM. 

With  a  copious  Index  and  Biographical  Sketch  of  the  Author.    12mo,  651  pp. 
Illustrated.    Muslin.  $3  50. 

We  have  met  with  few  treatises  on  the  Science  of  Human  Life,  especially  among 
those  addressed  to  the  gem-nil  reader,  of  equal  merit  with  this  one.  The  subjcft  is 
treated,  in  all  its  details,  with  uncommon  ability.  .  .  .  These  lectures  will  affoid 
the  unprofessional  reader  a  fund  of  curious  and  "useful  information  in  relation  to  the 
onrani/ation  of  his  frame,  the  laws  by  which  it  is  governed,  and  the  several  causes 
which  tend  to  derange  the  regularity  of  its  functions,  which  he  would  find  it  difficult 
to  obtain  from  any  other  source.— Eclectic  Journal  of  Medical  Science. 

Sober  and  Temperate  Life.— The  Discourses  and  Letters  of  Louis 
Cornado,  on  a  Sober  and  Temperate  Life.  With  a  Biography  of  the  Author,  who 
died  at  loO  years  of  age.  By  PIERO  MARONCELLI,  and  Notes  and  Appendix  by 
•TOHN  BURDELL.  Twenty-Fifth  Thousand.  IGrno,  228  pp.  Paper,  50  cents. 

This  work  is  a  srreat  favorite  with  the  reading  public,  as  evinced  by  the  number  of 
editions  already  sold.  The  sound  principles  and  maxims  of  temperance  of  the  "  old 
man  eloquent,"  are,  though  centuries  have  elapsed  since  his  decease,  still  efficient  in 
turning  men  to  a  sober  and  temperate  life. 


22  SAMUEL  R.  WELLS'  PUBLICATIONS. 


MISCELLANEOUS  WORKS. 

JEsop's  Fables, — The  People's  Edition.     Beautifully  Illustrated,  with 

nearly  Sixty  Engravings.    1  vol.  12mo,  72  pp.    Cloth,  gilt,  beveled  boards,  $1. 
It  is  gotten  up  in  sumptuous  style,  and  illustrated  with  great  beauty  of  design.    It 
will  conduce  to  educate  the  eye  and  elevate  the  taste  of  the  young  to  the  appreciation 
of  the  highest  and  most  perfect  forms  of  grace  and  beauty.— Mount  Holly  Herald. 

Chemistry,  and  its  application  to  Physiology,  Agriculture  and  Com- 
merce. By  JUSTUS  LIEBIG,  M.  D.,  F.  R.  S.,  Professor  of  Chemistry.  Edited  by 
JOHN  GAKDNER,  M.  D.  Twelth  Thousand.  Octavo,  54  pp.  Paper,  50  cents. 

Essays  on  Human  Rights  and  their  Political  Guarantees.— By  E. 

P.  HURLBUT,  Counselor-at-Law  in  the  City  of  New  York— now  Judge.   With  Notes, 
by  GEORGE  COMBE.    Sixth  Thousand.    1  vol.    12mo,  249  pp.    Muslin,  $1  50. 

Fruit  Culture  for  the  Million.— A  Hand-Book.  Being  a  Guide  to  the 
Cultivation  and  Management  of  Fruit  Trees.  With  Descriptions  of  the  Best 
Varieties  in  the  United  States.  Illustrated  with  Ninety  Engravings.  With  an 
Appendix  containing  a  variety  of  useful  memoranda  on  the  subject,  valuable 
receipts,  etc.  By  THOMAS  GREGG.  12mo,  163  pp.  Muslin,  $1. 

Gospel  Among:  the  Animals ;  Or,  Christ  with  the  Cattle.— By  Rev. 
SAMUEL  OSGOOD,  D.  D.  One  small  12mo  vol.,  24  pp.  Price,  85  cents. 

Home  for  All ;    Or,  the  Gravel  Wall.     A  New,  Cheap,  and  Superior 
Mode  of  Building,  adapted  to  Rich  and  Poor.    Showing  the  Superiority  of  this 
Gravel  Concrete  over  Brick,  Stone  and  Frame  Houses ;  Manner  of  Making  and 
Depositing  it.    With  numerous  Illustrations.    1  vol.  12mo,  192  pp.    Muslin,  $1  50. 
"  There's  no  place  like  Home."    To  cheapen  and  improve  human  homes,  and  espe- 
cially to  bring  comfortable  dwellings  within  the  reach  of  the  poor  classes,  is  the  object 
of  this  volume— an  object  of  the  highest  practical  utility  to  man. 

How  to  Live  :  Saving  and  Wasting,  or  Domestic  Economy  Illustrated, 
by  the  Life  of  Two  Families  of  Opposite  Character,  Habits  and  Practices,  in  a 
Pleasant  Tale  of  Real  Life,  full  of  Useful  Lessons  in  Housekeeping,  and  Hints 
How  to  Live,  How  to  Have,  How  to  Gain,  and  How  to  be  Happy ;  including  the 
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Natural  Laws  of  Man. — A  Philosophical  Catechism.    By  J.  G.  SPURZ- 
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An  Essay  on  Man. — By  ALEXANDER  POPE.  With  Notes  by  S.  R. 
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Aims  and  Aids  for  Girls  and  Young  Women,  on  the  various  Duties 

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Improvement,  Dress.  Beauty.  Fashion.  Employment,  Education,  the  Home  Rela- 
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Ways  of  Life,  showing  the  Right  Way  and  the  Wrong  Way.  Con- 
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Notes  on  Beauty,  Vigor  and  Development ;  Or,  How  to  Acquire 
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Father  Matthew,  the  Temperance  Apostle. — His  Portrait,  Charac 
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The  Indispensable  Hand-Book.  .$225  The  Exhibition  Speaker  .  .  .$150 
Orator v  Sa  v<l  :m<l  s.  oulnr  .  .16(1  Cushing's  Manual  of  Parlia.  Practice  75 
The  Ki<rht  Word  in  the  Right  Place,  75  The  Culture  of  the  Voice  and  Action  1  75 
The  American  Debater  .  .  .  2  00  Treatise  on  Punctuation  .  .  .  1  75 

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AN  INITIAL  PINE  OP  25  CENTS 

s-arsrs  ss/^r  -  22 

WILL  INCREASE  TO  5?  CEN?S  L™E    PENALTY 
DAY    AND     TO     $1.OO     ON     THE     «  OURTH 

OVERDUE.  THE    SEVENTH     DAY 


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